Australian Tales - Setis

Don't Lie Down and Fret.
ONE afternoon I was sitting on the poop of a fine ship, then on a long
voyage, when we were overtaken by a violent squall. The majority of my
readers doubtless know what a scene of bustle and commotion a ship's
deck presents at such a time, so I need not minutely describe it. The wind
roared, the officers shouted, and the sailors sung hoy, hoy! as they
hurriedly clewed up, or hauled down the flapping sails. All hands were
on deck, and actively engaged. In the midst of the exciting scene, I
particularly noticed the eccentric movements of a pale little man, who
was yclept “Jemmy Ducks,” the cognomen which is usually given to the
individual who has charge of the pigs and poultry on ship-board. The
poor fellow was on his first voyage, and had scarcely got what sailors
call his sea legs. He was evidently sea sick, and looked as helpless and
scared as a black fellow on a runaway omnibus. Presently I saw him fall
flat on the deck, having lost his footing in a violent lurch, caused by a sea
striking the ship on the broadside. While I was preparing to go to him, to
ascertain if he were hurt, I observed a rough-looking old seaman (who
was running with some others to the main topsail reef tackles), as he
passed the prostrate Jemmy Ducks, gave him a smart kick in the ribs, and
at the same time grumbled out, in that dry ironical tone so peculiar to
sailors, “don't lie down there, you'll be in the way.” The poor poultry
man scrambled up, and with a rueful face, staggered to his hen coops
under the top-gallant forecastle; doubtless thinking it was an equivocal
sort of sympathy which the old son of Neptune had manifested for his
downfall, and his bruises. I confess that while I pitied him, I could not
avoid smiling at the sailor's mode of emphasising his advice, by kicking
the poor fellow, instead of helping him up; and the comical expression
on the faces of the other sailors, shewed that they viewed his
discomfiture with much the same feeling that they would display at
shaving an uninitiated shipmate, while crossing the line.
I was at that time comparatively inexperienced in the ways of the
world; and I bestowed but little reflection on the incident; but — trivial
as it was — it has often recurred to my mind, when I have seen the spirit
of the old sailor imitated by folks on shore, on their luckless friends who
have been knocked down, either by their own folly or by misfortune;
though I have not always felt so disposed to laugh at the exhibition, as I
did at the prostrate Jemmy Ducks and his kicking shipmate.