Meg Wardell

"Thank you, Sir." Meg shrugged her shoulders slightly and said, "No, I don't mind." She turned to tend to her chores.

The young woman smiled. "Sit...I'll look after this," she said indicating the breakfast. "I can visit my friend later. It is good to hear that he's up and about again. Maybe tomorrow morning you'll be finding him here instead of me!"

"Good morning, Sir," she greeted cheerily. "You're too kind," Meg added in regards to the coffee. She offered the man a scone. "Lazarus is a much better cook. Do you know if he's made any progress?" She watched Diego hoping he'd have good news to tell her.

I'm working on a project and I was just wondering if anyone could point me in the right direction for information on sailors and courtship in the 17th-18th centuries...any help/comments are appreciated! Thanks!

Worms

Philistine

Meg studied the poster and the face of the man before her. Her mind flooded with thoughts. If she decided to go on with her indenture, she would at least be guaranteed a bit of land in the end. Should she sign on with the Watch Dog, she would most certainly live the adventurous life she longed for. She took a deep breath and firmly replied, "Sir, my request still stands."

"Of course, Sir," she said with a nod to the Captain's request. She followed him into the ward room and waited for him to speak.

Avon (you know...'Avon calling!')

The young woman thought for a moment. "Do you know the Mingulay Boat Song?" She hummed a bit of the tune for her before softly starting to sing the lyrics. Heel yo ho, boys; let her go, boys; Bring her head round, into the weather, Hill you ho, boys, let her go, boys Sailing homeward to Mingulay What care we though, white the Minch is? What care we for wind or weather? Let her go boys; every inch is Sailing homeward to Mingulay. Wives are waiting, by the pier head, Or looking seaward, from the heather; Pull her round, boys, then you'll anchor 'Ere the sun sets on Mingulay. Ships return now, heavy laden Mothers holdin' bairns a-cryin' They'll return, though, when the sun sets They'll return to Mingulay.

Thought I'd share a photo taken of myself and my husband. Not really a costume, but still cool...click on the thumbnail to get a better picture...

"I'm feeling much better, thank you. The surgeon tells me that Lazarus will be fine with time. The slave remains silent, but seems well enough." She looked past the chaplain and noticed his efforts in the galley. "Lazarus was a cook on the Warrington Hart," she mentioned hoping that Tempest was right about him. "Is there anything I can help with?"

Meg found her way into the galley. "Good mornin'," she greeted Diego quietly, still somewhat shy.

Apple pie

Elvis!

"Oh I am the Pirate King, and it tis, it tis a glorious thing to be the Pirate King...."

Were you in the UK on orders? I was stationed there for a couple of years...JMF St. Mawgan.

"Aye," she answered the captain. "Although we haven't know each other long. His name is Lazarus Gage, and he served as a cook onboard the Warrington Hart. I...I believe he said that he was from Cheshire."

"Sir," she started before realizing the impropriety of his words. Meg took a deep breath and informed him that she had lost her papers. "Might you have a spot for the daughter of a fletcher?"

Meg stared down at her bare feet. "No," came the quiet answer. "I was sold into indentured servitude, Sir."

"We were all aboard the Warrington Hart, Sir," she answered meekly. "We left Liverpool, stopped along the African coast and we were crossing to Montserrat." Meg paused. "There was an explosion. I was topside when it happened, so I'm afraid I can't offer any explaination for it."

I once worked with a Captain Scull in the USN. He would break out in pirate every so often!

The young woman followed the chaplain and sailor carrying Lazarus on weak legs.

Meg's adrenaline worked within her in the excitement of their rescue. Now safely aboard the cutter, weariness sweep over her. Meg took the water offered to her, and drank as she hadn't had any for days. She promptly wretched.

Pillage!