win and Cuffy | Page 9

of his
bereaved condition. He dreamed continuously of tobacco. Now he was

pacing the deck of his old ship with a splendid pipe of cut Cavendish
between his lips. Anon he was smoking a meerschaum the size of a
hogshead, with a stem equal to the length and thickness of the
main-topmast of a seventy-four; but somehow the meerschaum
wouldn't draw, whereupon John, in a passion, pronounced it worthy of
its name, and hove it overboard, when it was instantly transformed into
a shark with a cutty pipe in its mouth. To console himself our hero
endeavoured to thrust into his mouth a quid of negro-head, which,
however, suddenly grew as big as the cabin-skylight, and became as
tough as gutta-percha, so that it was utterly impossible to bite off a
piece; and, stranger still, when the poor sailor had by struggling got it
in, it dwindled down into a point so small that he could not feel it in his
mouth at all. On reaching this, the vanishing-point, Jarwin awoke to a
consciousness of the dread reality of his destitute condition. Turning on
his other side with a deep groan, he fell asleep again, to dream of
tobacco in some new and tantalising form until sunrise, when he awoke
unrefreshed. Leaping up, he cast off his clothes, rushed down the beach,
and plunged into sea, by way of relieving his feelings.
During the day John Jarwin brooded much over his dreams, for his
mind was of a reflective turn, and Cuffy looked often inquiringly into
his face. That sympathetic doggie would evidently have besought him
to pour his sorrows into his cocked ears if he could have spoken;
but--alas! for people who are cast away on desert islands--the gift of
speech has been denied to dogs.
Besides being moody, Jarwin was uncommonly taciturn that day. He
did not tell Cuffy the result of his cogitations, so that we cannot say
anything further about them. All that we are certainly sure of is, that he
was profoundly miserable that day--that he postponed his intended
expedition to the top of the neighbouring hill--that he walked about the
beach slowly, with his chin on his breast and his hands in his pockets--
that he made various unsuccessful attempts to smoke dried leaves, and
bark, and wild-flowers, mixing with those substances shreds of his
trousers' pockets, in order that they might have at least the flavour of
tobacco--that he became more and more restive as the day wore on,
became more submissive in the evening, paid a few apologetic

attentions to Cuffy at supper-time, and, finally, went to bed in a better
frame of mind, though still craving painfully for the weed which had
enslaved him. That night his dreams were still of tobacco! No lover
was ever assailed more violently with dreams of his absent mistress
than was John Jarwin with longings for his adorable pipe. But there
was no hope for him--the beloved one was effectually and permanently
gone; so, like a sensible man, he awoke next morning with a stern
resolve to submit to his fate with a good grace.
In pursuance of this resolution he began the day with a cold bath, in
which Cuffy joined him. Then he breakfasted on chestnuts, plums,
citrons, oysters, and shrimps, the former of which abounded in the
woods, the latter on the shore. Jarwin caught the shrimps in a net,
extemporised out of his pocket-handkerchief. While engaged with his
morning meal, he was earnestly watched by several green paroquets
with blue heads and crimson breasts; and during pauses in the meal he
observed flocks of brightly-coloured doves and wood-pigeons, besides
many other kinds of birds, the names of which he did not know, as well
as water-hens, plover, and wild ducks.
"Lost your appetite this morning, Cuff?" said Jarwin, offering his
companion a citron, which he decidedly refused. "Ah!" he continued,
patting the dog's sides, "I see how it is; you've had breakfast already
this morning; bin at it when I was a-sleepin'. For shame, Cuffy!--you
should have waited for me; an' you've bin an' over-ate yourself again,
you greedy dog!"
This was evidently the case. The guilty creature, forgetful of its past
experiences, had again gorged itself with dead fish, which it had found
on the beach, and looked miserable.
"Well, never mind, doggie," said Jarwin, finishing his meal, and rising.
"I'll give you a little exercise to-day for the good of your health. We
shan't go sulking as we did yesterday; so, come along."
The sailor left his bower as he spoke, and set off at a round pace with
his hands in his pockets, and a thick stick under his arm, whistling as he
went, while Cuffy followed lovingly at his heels.

CHAPTER THREE.
COMMUNINGS OF MAN AND BEAST.
It would appear