Very bland and amiable, Doctor Johnson advanced, and, resting his cane
on the stocks, glanced to right and left, as we lay before him.
"Well, my lads" - he began - "how do you find yourselves to-day?"
Looking very demure, the men made some rejoinder; and he went on.
"Those poor fellows I saw the other day - the sick, I mean - how are
they?" and he scrutinized the company. At last, he singled out one
who was assuming a most unearthly appearance, and remarked that he
looked as if he were extremely ill. "Yes," said the sailor dolefully,
"I'm afeard, doctor, I'll soon be losing the number of my mess!" (a
sea phrase, for departing this life) and he closed his eyes, and
moaned.
"What does he say?" said Johnson, turning round eagerly.
"Why," exclaimed Flash Jack, who volunteered as interpreter, "he
means he's going to croak" (die).
"Croak! and what does that mean, applied to a patient?"
"Oh! I understand," said he, when the word was explained; and he
stepped over the stocks, and felt the man's pulse.
"What's his name?" he asked, turning this time to old Navy Bob.
"We calls him Jingling Joe," replied that worthy.
"Well then, men, you must take good care of poor Joseph; and I will
send him a powder, which must be taken according to the directions.
Some of you know how to read, I presume?"
"That ere young cove does," replied Bob, pointing toward the place
where I lay, as if he were directing attention to a sail at sea.
After examining the rest - some of whom were really invalids, but
convalescent, and others only pretending to be labouring under divers
maladies, Johnson turned round, and addressed the party.
"Men," said he, "if any more of you are ailing, speak up, and let me
know. By order of the consul, I'm to call every day; so if any of you
are at all sick, it's my duty to prescribe for you. This sudden
change from ship fare to shore living plays the deuce with you
sailors, so be cautious about eating fruit. Good-day! I'll send you
the medicines the first thing in the morning."
Now, I am inclined to suspect that with all his want of understanding,
Johnson must have had some idea that we were quizzing him. Still,
that was nothing, so long as it answered his purpose; and therefore,
if he did see through us, he never showed it.
Sure enough, at the time appointed, along came a native lad with a
small basket of cocoa-nut stalks, filled with powders, pill-boxes,
and-vials, each with names and directions written in a large, round
hand. The sailors, one and all, made a snatch at the collection,
under the strange impression that some of the vials were seasoned
with spirits. But, asserting his privilege as physician to the first
reading of the labels, Doctor Long Ghost was at last permitted to
take possession of the basket.
