Leona Florianova

@lost-fool.bsky.social

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photographer..illustrator... leathersmith

He then looked at a Dromedary, distracted with toothache, decided that the tooth must come out, and sent for the drummer and two of the man's messmates to hold his head. 'Which we ain't got no drummer, sir,' said his loblolly boy. 'All the jollies was left at Malta.' 'Very true,' said Stephen. 'But a drum I must have.' He was not very good at drawing teeth and he liked his patient to be deafened, amazed, stupefied by a thundering in his ears. 'Has this ship never a drum for a fog?' 'No, sir,' said the Dromedary's messmates. 'We uses conchs and a musket.' 'Well,' said Stephen, 'that might answer too. Let it be so. My compliments to the gentleman in charge of the watch and may I have conchs and a musket. No. Stay. The galley must surely have cauldrons and kettles that could be beat.' But few messages are ever perfectly understood, few are delivered unimproved upon, and the tooth came out -came out at bloody last, piece by piece - to the howling of conchs, the fire of two muskets, and the metallic thunder of several copper pots. --Treason's Harbour