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Henry Masterman Mist Diaries and Prisoners Pie Magazine

Diaries of Heny Masterman Mist and a copy of Prisoners’ Pie, the Ruhleben Camp magazine. Learn more.

*All transcriptions are provided by volunteers, and the accuracy of the transcriptions is not guaranteed. Please be sure to verify the information by viewing the image record, or visiting the BC Archives in person. 

BC Archives MS-2570

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"Bu hi woz telling' you about them three monkeys. Yes, boys, they saved the ship, an' hour lives too, -- 'strewth. Course, you ignorant men won't believe it hi s'spose, but hit's a fact -- 'Ow did it 'appen? Why y'all know as 'ow in winter time, hafter leavin' the Nor'East Trades, 'omeward bound, that is, as 'ow a ship runs into suddin an' 'eavy gales, the "Heekwy Nockshuls" they calls 'em, eh? -- the "Heekwy-Nockshuls" hi said, wich for the benefit of you pore higoramuses is Spanish or Lating or somethink, an' means "Speshully hobonoxious".

"Well, we woz just about in the Latitood of the "Heekwy-Nockshuls", an' I woz allus hadwisin' the Ole Man of the "Pythonome" to be careful, my barometer bein' continual wiolently hagitated at the time. Did 'e take 'eed of me? yes, bu 'e allus sed as 'ow 'e'd risk it, till one day hi told 'im as 'ow hi wouldn't 'ave the responsibility hany more; couldn't get no sleep on account of it.

"Hany 'ow, all went well by the mercy of Providence, till one night, as I woz a cleanin' up in my galley, hi observed my barometer dam near burstin' itself, it wor that hagitated. 'Wotto!' sez I 'a wery wiolent hatmospheric disturbince, an' not far hoff neither. Not a mo to be lost', I sez. Hi rushes out an' haft to the Ole Man; 'Capen Smiff-Piggit', shouts hi, 'Lower away an' clew up heverythink; stand by your 'alliards an' 'urry hup an' look slippy. Hall 'ands on deck!' I shouts, I woz that hagitated.

"Capen Smiff-Piggit looks at me an' sez, sez 'e 'Go forrard, Doctor! Hi do believe you're drunk!' 'Wot?' shouts I. 'Oh Gawd 'elp us, fer hall is lost!' an' I goes forrard an' begins to sing 'Rock of Hages' for hi woz the honly man in that doomed wessel wot realised the hawful himpendin' danger. 'Jim 'Iggins,' I sez to myself sez I. 'You've bin in many a tight corner, but Gawd 'elp yer, yer in a damned tight one now!'

"Hi 'ad 'ardly spoke wen, as I hexpected, down comes the gale, the "Heekwy-Nockshul". I 'ears a thunderin' an' slappin' hup aloft, han' the Mate's voice roarin' an' the sailors singin' bout; an' then -- hover goes the "Pythonome". on to 'er beam ends, an' bash, bang! goes my pans, an' kettles, stove an' all, -- clean through the lee door!

"'Ho! wot's to become of us'" hi groans. 'Oh, Rock of Hages, Rock of Hages.' Any'ow I thinks, hi'm for out o' this, an' hout I comes, some'ow for the weather door was jammed tight, an' o'course orizonkal. Yes, I 'ad a awful job to get hout, an' as you may pershume, it woz anythink but cheerful wen I did get out. She woz right hover with 'er lee'yard-arms touchin' the water, an' heverythink set y'know, a hawful sight, boys! There was the Ole Man 'anging on to the weather riggin' on the poop, an' the mate an' all 'ands hup aloft trying' their damndest to cut away heverythink, an' the "Heekwy-Nockshul" roarin' somethin' gharstly, -- makes me feel like a bloomin' blue maunge even now wen hi think uv it, hit does. Strewth,

BC Archives, MS-2570 Box 1 File 6 / MIST, Henry Masterman / Ruhleben magazine, Prisoners’ Pie, 1916.

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