"Sure, not that I am complainin' at the same, but will anny of yez tell me why the ship's a-flutter with flags, and the lads all given a holiday, and that old coffee-mill of a cable machine stopped grinding for the once?"
"Because," answered a comrade with an expressive wink, "it's Garge's birthday, Garge Washington, you know, the daddy of his counthry!"
"Oh, to be sure!" responded the other, meditatively, taking a whiff or two at his pipe to see that it was really lighted before he threw the match overboard. "To be sure! And it's a great mon that same Garge must have bin, a great mon, Dinnis. Sure, St. Pathrick himself couldn't touch him with a shillaly."
"And for why?" demanded several Irishmen, truculently, their ire aroused at the invidiousness of the allusion.
"Because St. Pathrick, God love him, aint never been counted as ranking alongside of Christ, and this here Garge Washington seems to be of more importance than ayther of thim. Why, on Christmas we didn't have no holiday--divil a bit of it--just a bite more to ate for dinner, with no shore leave, and the haythens working us and working thimsilves all day as if it had been an ordinary Chuesday 'stead of Christmas, which is Christ's birthday, while on Garge's birthday the whole ship cilibrates. Ah, he certainly must have bin a great mon, that same Garge."
But notwithstanding our philosopher's grumble, he enjoyed his shore leave to the utmost, and he and Dennis came back on the evening boat hilarious as could be and reciprocally dependent upon one another for support.
That morning Datto Mandi, the Rajah Muda or heir to the Sultanate of Mindanao, came on board to pay his respects to the Powers-that-Be. The datto was accompanied by his wife, for notwithstanding he is a Mohammedan, he has but one, and the wife of his Philippine foster-brother, besides a large retinue of followers and slaves. He also brought with him a band, and as a rival orchestra had come out earlier, we stationed the first one in the bow of the ship, and the datto's musicians in the stern.
All would have been well had not a spirit of emulation caused the bands to play different selections at one and the same time, resulting in a discordant war of notes and the death of harmony. Peace was restored by some native rushing valiantly to the front and forcibly stopping the band on the forward deck, after which each set of musicians waited, with no little impatience, its turn to play, and after once getting the floor, or in this case the deck, held it longer than was quite parliamentary.