BOODY versus TOMKINS.

A LEGEND OF THE SEA.

BY WILLIAM H. G. KINGSTON.

YAN such things be? Is the destiny of the departed ever revealed to

CAN such things be?

mortals still on earth? Can beings of a spiritual nature assume corporeal forms visible to the human eye? Such questions have been asked from time immemorial, and continue to be asked rather loudly and frequently at the present day, and answered by some as loudly and positively in the affirmative. Let the following story be taken by those who reply in the affirmative as an evidence of their belief, and I feel well assured that no more authentic or unquestionable evidence can be produced in its support.

The tale is indeed one of the most wonderful of a supernatural order I have ever met with. I have heard it told over and over again, especially by old seamen who have sailed in the Mediterranean, and I never found any who ventured to disbelieve it. To our story :

At the latter part of the last century, that is to say, in the year A.D. 1798, and for many years previously, there lived at Portsmouth a shipchandler and biscuit-baker, Ethan Boody by name. What naval man of those days, who is still alive, does not remember his shop, not far from the Point-a spot as well known to seamen as the Monument is to Londoners? Who does not remember its mean and shabby exterior, and its low roof with its wonderfully extensive interior, filled with every conceivable article required for ship stores-the ceiling hung with brooms, brushes, mops, pans, kettles, earthen jars, flitches of bacon, and deep-sea leads; and the floor covered with barrels of biscuit, rice, salt fish, coils of rope, with casks of nails, tobacco, potatoes, flour, paint, and a thousand other articles of the most miscellaneous description? In truth, there was nothing I could mention which old Boody did not sell-all was fish which came to his net. He was ready to take a Government contract to supply a whole fleet with bread and salt pork, cheese and candles, or sell a penny worth of tobacco to a drunken seaman. He was known as Old Boody, and had always been known as Old Boody by his oldest customer, and he had a vast number of them, whom he somehow or other always continued to keep under his thumb. Let the master of a merchant

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vessel or the caterer of a man-of-war's mess once get into Old Boody's books, he took care that there should be no excuse for leaving him. His business, in consequence, was very extensive, and he was reputed to be prodigiously rich. Such was probably the case, for he was always ready to lend money on undoubtable security, but equally regular in exacting an enormous interest. He took a pleasure in inducing people to get into his debt it was extraordinary how friendly he became with them, and how much more ready it made them to deal at his shop, and not to scrutinize too narrowly the quality of the articles he supplied. With all this he was not a favourite: people abused him behind his back who were ready enough to borrow his gold. His biscuits were found to be made of bean-powder and bone-dust; his butter was rancid and composed of veal fat and tallow-indeed, there was no doubt about it, his supplies were decidedly bad. He thus got the character in the world of being a great rogue, and as in that respect I suspect the world is seldom wrong, though many a great rogue passes for an honest man, he probably was of the former character. Many stories were told of his rapacity and extortion of prize-money mortgaged-of property left in pawn-of many an incautious man deprived of his all-of valuables confided to him which he refused to deliver up to the heirs when the owner was slain or drowned He certainly had not the redeeming quality of charity—he was never known to give, and the beggared widow and orphan of those who had trusted in him, and whom he had deceived, would pass his door and hopelessly shake their heads, feeling that from him there was no chance of relief. Old Boody was a short man, with a fat body and a bald head ; but his face was wrinkled, and his cheeks hung down on either side; his nose was turned up, his lips were thin, and his eyes, small and ferrety, screwed up at the corners in a way which gave him far from a prepossessing appearance. His physiognomy was, however, peculiar, and everybody who had once seen him would have known him again a hundred miles off. He did not appear to be of an irascible disposition, but he had a stealthy cat-like manner, not the less treacherous. It used to be a common saying among those who knew him-as who did not ?—that "though Old Boody managed to escape the hangman in this world, Satan would be sure to have him in the next." He had a better-half, who, wonderful to say, appeared to be very fond of him, which was more than she was of anybody else, or that anybody else was of her, for she was a large, fat, red-faced, double-fisted woman, who could give a back-hander as hard as any man, and whose temper was as violent as that of her husband's was subdued. Such were Old Boody and his wife.

at sea.

One morning early in the year-a fine fresh northerly breeze blowing

down the High-street, and whisking through the gateway into Pointstreet, past Old Boody's shop--Old Boody himself was standing at his own door, where there was, besides, a stout, sailorlike-looking man, with a jovial good-natured expression of countenance, whose appearance bespoke him to be the master of a merchantman.

"Well, Captain Tomkins, when do you expect to have the Swallow ready for sea?" said Old Boody, addressing the seaman in a whining tone of voice.

"To-morrow morning, I hope!" answered the Captain. "The convoy are all collected at Spithead, and 'twould be a sin to lose this fine breeze; if it holds, we shall be through the Straits in a fortnight."

"A speedy voyage out and home to you!" said Old Boody.

"Thankye, Mr. Boody, and I hope to see you here when I come back again!" observed Captain Tomkins.

“Oh, you'll see me again, depend on't!" said Old Boody; “I'm a tough bird, and the Old One will have a hard job to get hold of me! Ha, ha, ha!" and he chuckled at his own wit.

These were the last words Captain Tomkins heard Old Boody speak, and he remembered them. Several other masters of hired store-ships looked in one after the other, and to each of them Old Boody made similar remarks. They were, it appeared, to sail the next morning, to carry arms and stores for the British troops and the fleet in the Mediterranean. It was a beautiful sight when the Diana frigate, with her blue-peter flying at the fore, having under her charge a fleet of two hundred merchantmen of all sizes and rigs, from the heavy ship to the light schooner, fired her signal-gun for weighing, and they all made sail, one after the other, with a fine leading wind through the Needles. Among them were the Swallow, Captain Tomkins; the Dido, Captain Jones; the Jane and John, Captain Harvey; and the Fair Islander, Captain Jenkins-store-ships belonging to Portsmouth.

They had, as Captain Tomkins predicted, a fine passage up the Straits, and, having discharged their cargoes, were on their way back to England to obtain further freight, when the four we have mentioned were becalmed together off the famous burning island of Stromboli, to the north of Sicily. The shades of night were fast disappearing before the bright beams of the rising sun, when Captain Tomkins of the Swallow came on deck; with his telescope at his eye he was sweeping the horizon to note what sails were in sight, when, as he came round to the land, his glance fell on the top of the cone-shaped mountain. He started with surprise; he rubbed his glass and he rubbed his eyes, for he could scarcely believe his senses-and such might well be the case, he being a

strong-minded and far from superstitious man-for there he behield, as clearly as he had ever seen anything in his life, a troop of black figures, with pitchforks in their hands, and long tails whisking and frisking about, and driving on before them up the mountain a short paunchy man, who seemed very unwilling to proceed onward. The man was dressed in a red cap and a white shirt, and was as livid and pale as his tormentors were of an opposite hue. The captain fixed his glass on the man, and clearly enough he saw who it was; but still he thought it must be some optical delusion, or that he himself must be labouring under a disorder of the nerves. "No, it cannot be !" he muttered to himself, "I must be going mad! Here, Mr. Hopkins, take the glass, and tell me if you see anything strange on the mountain yonder." He spoke to his mate, who was just then coming aft.

The mate took the glass and looked as he was desired. "Strange! I should think I do!" he exclaimed, after gazing for a minute. "I'll be

if there's not a whole troop of black imps driving Old Boody towards the brink of the crater, and if he don't look sharp they'll have him down it in a quarter less no time." "Then I was not mistaken!" said the Captain; "but it is the most wonderful occurrence I ever heard of, and never expected to see the like."

The crew now observing their officers looking towards the mountain turned their eyes in the same direction, and there beheld the same wonderful sight, for they, of course, all knew Old Boody. The mate got another telescope, and he and the captain watched with intense interest the strange scene. The sides of the mountain were steep and rugged, and the imps had actually to stick their prongs into the old man at times, to prevent him falling. In some spots he would reach a flat ledge of lava where he could stop, and then he would turn round and apparently remonstrate with the imps, and finish with cursing and swearing at them, when they would frisk and leap about more vehemently, with fearful grimaces, as if they were shouting in derision, though no sound was heard, and all together making a rush at him, would again urge him on towards his destruction. It was on these occasions, when he turned round, that the people of the Swallow were able clearly to discern his features, so that there could be no doubt about who it was. Among the imps was a tall one, with an enormously long tail and a pair of crooked horns, with a most diabolical expression of countenance, and, not content with pronging Old Boody, he would, when any impediment occurred, stick his horns on either side of his neck, and lift him bodily over it, all the others at the same time digging at him in every available space of his body. Thus they went on till they approached