The Cruise of the Frolic. Kingston William Henry Giles

were not unwelcome. We met a number of acquaintances. Hearty lost his heart for the tenth time since he left London. The Gentle Giant, as the Miss Rattlers called Carstairs, looked out for a charmer, but could find none to surpass Mrs Skyscraper. Bubble laughed with all but sighed with none, though Hearty accused him of flirtations innumerable; and I never chronicle my own deeds, however fond I may be of noting those of my friends. However, if we did not break hearts, we passed a very pleasant evening. Hearty invited everybody he knew to come on board the next morning, and we went as far as Dartmouth, and a beautiful sail back we had by moonlight, to the great delight of the romantic portion of the guests. They were a very quiet set of ladies and gentlemen, and more than one sigh was heaved when they had gone on shore for our fast friends at Cowes.

      We were present at the Plymouth Regatta, and were going to several other places, when, one day after dinner, Hearty thus gave utterance to his thoughts. We were about a quarter of the way across channel on our passage to the French coast, with a stiffish breeze from the westward, and a chopping sea: —

      “It seems to me arrant folly that we four bachelors should keep turning up the salt water all the summer, and boxing about from place to place which we don’t care to visit, when there are a number of fair ladies at Cowes who are undoubtedly pining for our return.”

      “My own idea,” exclaimed Carstairs.

      “Your argument is unanswerable,” said Bubble.

      I nodded.

      “All agreed – then we’ll up stick for the Wight,” said Hearty joyfully. “The wind’s fair. We shall be there some time to-morrow. Hillo, Jack! beg the master to step below.”

      This was said to a lad who waited at table and assisted the steward.

      Old Snow, the master, soon made his appearance. He had been a yachtsman for many years, and previously, if his yarns were to be believed, a smuggler of no mean renown. He was a short man, rather fat, for good living had not been thrown away on him, and very neat and clean in his person, as became the master of a yacht.

      “We want to get back to Cowes, Snow,” said Hearty.

      “Yes, sir,” answered the skipper, well accustomed to sudden changes in the plans of his yachting masters.

      “How soon can we get there?” asked Hearty.

      “If we keeps away at once, and this here wind holds, early to-morrow; but, if it falls light, not till the afternoon, maybe; and, if it chops round to the eastward, not till next morning,” replied Snow.

      “By all means keep away at once, and get there as fast as you can,” said Hearty; and the master disappeared from the cabin.

      Directly afterwards we heard him call the hands aft to case off the main-sheet, the square-sail and gaff-topsail were set, and, by the comparatively easy motion, we felt that we were running off before the wind. Not a little did it contribute to our comfort in concluding our dinner.

      The next day, at noon, saw us safely anchored in Cowes Roads.

      “There’s Mr Hearty and the Gentle Giant, I declare,” exclaimed the melodious voice of Miss Susan Rattler, from out of a shrubbery, as my two friends were pacing along on the road towards Egypt, to call on Lady Cardiff.

      “Oh, the dear men! you don’t say so, Susan!” replied her sister.

      Bubble and I were close under them, a little in advance, so they did not see us, though we could not avoid hearing what was said.

      “Yes, it’s them, I vow; we must attack them about the pic-nic forthwith,” said Susan.

      “Don’t mention Jane Seaton, or poor Ned will be too much out of spirits to do any thing,” observed her sister.

      “Trust me to manage all descriptions of he-animals,” replied Rattler minima. “Ah, how d’ye do? – how d’ye do? Welcome, rovers, welcome!” she exclaimed, waving her handkerchief as they approached.

      “Lovely ladies, we once more live in your presence,” began Hearty.

      “‘Oh that I were a glove upon that hand!’” shouted Carstairs.

      “Oh, don’t, you’ll make us blush!” screamed Susan, from over the bushes. “But seriously, we’re so glad you’re come, because now we can have the pic-nic to Netley you promised us.”

      “I like frankness – when shall it be?” said Hearty.

      “To-morrow, by all means, – never delay a good thing.”

      “‘If ’twere done, ’twere well ’twere done quickly,’” observed the captain.

      “That’s what Shakespeare says about a beef-steak,” cried Susan. “But I say then, it’s settled – how nice!”

      “What? that we are to have beef-steaks?” asked Hearty. “They are very nice when one’s hungry.”

      “No, I mean that we are to have a pic-nic to-morrow,” said the fair Rattler.

      “That depends whether those we invite are willing to join it,” observed Hearty.

      “‘I can summon spirits from the vasty deep; but will they come, cousin?’” exclaimed Carstairs.

      “Oh, yes, in these parts, often,” cried Rattler maxima; “the revenue officers constantly find them, I know.”

      “Capital – capital!” ejaculated Hearty. “You must bring that out again on board the ‘Frolic.’ You deserve a pic-nic for it; it’s so original. You must consider this only as a rehearsal.”

      “How kind – then it’s all settled!” exclaimed both young ladies in a breath. “There’s Mary Masthead, I know, is dying to go, and so is Mrs Topgallant, and I dare say, if Captain Carstairs presses Mrs Skyscraper, she’ll go, and the Sandons and Cardiffs, and all our set; I don’t think any will refuse.”

      “Well, then, we’ve no time to lose,” we exclaimed, and off we set to beat up for recruits.

      We were not, however, without our disappointments. Lady Cardiff could not go, and without a correct chaperone she could not let her daughter be of the party – the thing was utterly impossible, dreadfully incorrect, and altogether unheard of. Mrs Skyscraper was a great deal too young, and being a widow had herself to look after. If Mrs Topgallant would go, she would see about it; so we tried next to find the lady in question, but she had gone to Carisbrooke Castle, and would not be back till late. Mrs Sandon was next visited, but she had a cold; and if Lady Cardiff would not let her daughter go without a chaperone, neither could she. We by chance met Mrs Seaton with the fair Jane, looking very beautiful, but mamma never went on the water if she could help it. She could not come to the island without doing so; but once safe there, she would not set her foot in a boat till she had to go away again. Sooth to say, that was not surprising; the good dame was unsuited by her figure for locomotion. Every thing depended on Mrs Topgallant; never was she in so much request. The gentlemen being able to come without chaperones, more readily promised to be present. We fell in with Sir Francis Futtock, Lord Lorimer, Harry Loring, and young Flareup, and a young Oxonian, who had lately taken orders, and created a great sensation among the more sensitive portion of his audience by his exquisite preaching, and the unction by which he privately recommended auricular confession and penance.

      The Rev. Frederick Fairfax was a pink-faced young man, and had naturally a round, good-natured countenance, but by dint of shaving his whiskers, elongating his face, and wearing a white cravat without gills, and a stand-up collar to his coat, he contrived to present a no bad imitation of a Jesuit priest. The Miss Rattlers called him the Paragon Puseyite, or the PP, which they said would stand as well for parish priest. How Hearty came to invite him I don’t know, for he detested the silly clique to whom the youth had attached himself. We had just left the young gentleman when we met the two merry little Miss Masons. At first they could not possibly go, because they had no chaperone; but when they heard that the Rev. Frederick was to be of the party, all their scruples vanished. With such a pastor they might go anywhere. They had only lately been bitten, but had ever since diligently applied themselves to the study of the “Tracts of the Times;” and though not a word did