<h2><SPAN name="chap03"></SPAN>CHAPTER III</h2>
<p class="letter">
My Mother’s Brother arrives—relieves me—a Description of
him—he goes along with me to the House of my Grandfather—is
encountered by his Dogs—defeats them, after a bloody Engagement—is
admitted to the old Gentleman—a Dialogue between them</p>
<p>About this time my mother’s only brother, who had been long abroad,
lieutenant of a man-of-war, arrived in his own country; where being informed of
my condition, he came to see me, and out of his slender finances not only
supplied me with what necessaries I wanted for the present, but resolved not to
leave the country until he had prevailed on my grandfather to settle something
handsome for the future. This was a task to which he was by no means equal,
being entirely ignorant, not only of the judge’s disposition, but also of
the ways of men in general, to which his education on board had kept him an
utter stranger.</p>
<p>He was a strong built man, somewhat bandy legged, with a neck like that of a
bull, and a face which (you might easily perceive) had withstood the most
obstinate assaults of the weather. His dress consisted of a soldier’s
coat altered for him by the ship’s tailor, a striped flannel jacket, a
pair of red breeches spanned with pitch, clean gray worsted stockings, large
silver buckles that covered three-fourths of his shoes, a silver-laced hat,
whose crown overlooked the brims about an inch and a half, black bobwig in
buckle, a check shirt, a silk handkerchief, a hanger, with a brass handle,
girded to his thigh by a furnished lace belt, and a good oak plant under his
arm. Thus equipped, he set out with me (who by his bounty made a very decent
appearance) for my grandfather’s house, where we were saluted by Jowler
and Caesar, whom my cousin, young master, had let loose at our approach. Being
well acquainted with the inveteracy of these curs, I was about to betake myself
to my heels, when my uncle seized me with one hand, brandished his cudgel with
the other, and at one blow laid Caesar sprawling on the ground; but, finding
himself attacked at the same time in the rear by Jowler, and fearing Caesar
might recover, he drew his hanger, wheeled about, and by a lucky stroke severed
Jowler’s head from his body. By this time, the young foxhunter and three
servants, armed with pitchforks and flails, were come to the assistance of the
dogs, whom they found breathless upon the field; and my cousin was so provoked
at the death of his favourites, that he ordered his attendants to advance, and
take vengeance on their executioner, whom he loaded with all the curses and
reproaches his anger could suggest. Upon which my uncle stepped forwards with
an undaunted air, at the sight of whose bloody weapons his antagonists fell
back with precipitation, when he accosted their leader thus:</p>
<p>“Lookee, brother, your dogs having boarded me without provocation, what I
did was in my own defence. So you had best be civil, and let us shoot a head,
clear of you.”</p>
<p>Whether the young squire misinterpreted my uncle’s desire of peace, or
was enraged at the fate of his hounds beyond his usual pitch of resolution, I
know not; but he snatched a flail from one of his followers, and came up with a
show of assaulting the lieutenant, who, putting himself in a posture of
defence, proceeded thus: “Lookee, you lubberly son of a w—e, if you
come athwart me, ’ware your gingerbread work. I’ll be foul of your
quarter, d—n me.”</p>
<p>This declaration, followed by a flourish of his hanger, seemed to check the
progress of the young gentleman’s choler, who, looking behind him,
perceived his attendants had slunk into the house, shut the gate, and left him
to decide the contention by himself.</p>
<p>Here a parley ensued, which was introduced by my cousin’s asking,
“Who the devil are you? What do you want? Some scoundrel of a seaman, I
suppose, who has deserted and turned thief. But don’t think you shall
escape, sirrah—I’ll have you hang’d, you dog, I will. Your
blood shall pay for that of my two hounds, you ragamuffin. I would not have
parted with them to save your whole generation from the gallows, you ruffian,
you!” “None of your jaw, you swab—none of your jaw,”
replied my uncle, “else I shall trim your laced jacket for you. I shall
rub you down with an oaken towel, my boy, I shall.” So saying, he
sheathed his hanger, and grasped his cudgel. Meanwhile the people of the house
being alarmed, one of my female cousins opened a window, and asked what was the
matter. “The matter!” answered the lieutenant; “no great
matter, young woman; I have business with the old gentleman, and this spark,
belike, won’t allow me to come alongside of him,” that’s all.
After a few minutes pause we were admitted, and conducted to my
grandfather’s chamber through a lane of my relations, who honoured me
with very significant looks as I passed along. When we came into the
judge’s presence my uncle, after two or three sea-bows, expressed himself
in this manner; “Your servant, your servant. What cheer, father? what
cheer? I suppose you don’t know me—mayhap you don’t. My name
is Tom Bowling, and this here boy, you look as if you did not know him neither;
’tis like you mayn’t. He’s new rigged, i’faith; his
cloth don’t shake in the wind so much as it wont to do. ’Tis my
nephew, d’y see, Roderick Random—your own flesh and blood, old
gentleman. Don’t lay a-stern, you dog,” pulling me forward. My
grandfather (who was laid up with the gout) received this relation, after his
long absence, with that coldness of civility which was peculiar to him; told
him he was glad to see him, and desired him to sit down. “Thank ye, thank
ye, sir, I had as lief stand,” said my uncle; “for my own part, I
desire nothing of you; but, if you have any conscience at all, do something for
this poor boy, who has been used at a very unchristian rate. Unchristian do I
call it? I am sure the Moors in Barbary have more humanity than to leave their
little ones to want. I would fain know why my sister’s son is more
neglected than that there fair-weather Jack” (pointing to the young
squire, who with the rest of my cousins had followed us into the room).
“Is not he as near akin to you as the other? Is he not much handsomer and
better built than that great chucklehead? Come, come, consider, old gentleman,
you are going in a short time to give an account of your evil actions. Remember
the wrongs you did his father, and make all the satisfaction in your power
before it be too late. The least thing you can do is to settle his
father’s portion on him.”</p>
<p>The young ladies, who thought themselves too much concerned to contain
themselves any longer, set up their throats all together against my
protector—“Scurvy companion—saucy tarpaulin—rude,
impertinent fellow, did he think to prescribe to grandpapa? His sister’s
brat had been too well taken care of. Grandpapa was too just not make a
difference between an unnatural, rebellious son and his dutiful, loving
children, who took his advice in all things;” and such expressions were
vented against him with great violence; until the judge at length commanded
silence. He calmly rebuked my uncle for his unmannerly behaviour, which he said
he would excuse on account of his education: he told him he had been very kind
to the boy, whom he had kept at school seven or eight years, although he was
informed he made no progress in his learning but was addicted to all manner of
vice, which he rather believed, because he himself was witness to a barbarous
piece of mischief he had committed on the jaws of his chaplain. But, however,
he would see what the lad was fit for, and bind him apprentice to some honest
tradesman or other, provided he would mend his manners, and behave for the
future as became him.</p>
<p>The honest tar (whose pride and indignation boiled within him) answered my
grandfather, that it was true he had sent him to school, but it had cost him
nothing, for he had never been at one shilling expense to furnish him with
food, raiment, books, or other necessaries; so that it was not much to be
wondered at, if the boy made small progress; and yet whoever told him so was a
lying, lubberly rascal, and deserved to be keel-haul’d; for though he
(the lieutenant) did not understand those matters himself, he was well informed
as how Rory was the best scholar of his age in all the country; the truth of
which he would maintain, by laying a wager of his whole half-year’s pay
on the boy’s head—with these words he pulled out his purse, and
challenged the company: “Neither is he predicted to vice, as you affirm,
but rather, left like a wreck, d’ye see, at the mercy of the wind and
weather, by your neglect, old gentleman. As for what happened to your chaplain,
I am only sorry that he did not knock out the scoundrel’s brains instead
of his teeth. By the Lord, if ever I come up with him, he had better be in
Greenland, that’s all. Thank you for your courteous offer of binding the
lad apprentice to a tradesman. I suppose you would make a tailor of
him—would you? I had rather see him hang’d, d’ye see. Come
along, Rory, I perceive how the land lies, my boy—let’s tack about,
i’faith—while I have a shilling you shan’t want a tester.
B’we, old gentleman; you’re bound for the other world, but I
believe damnably ill-provided for the voyage.” Thus ended our visit; and
we returned to the village, my uncle muttering curses all the way against the
old shark and the young fry that surrounded him.</p>
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