Treasure Island

- Happy birthday, Mrs. Hawkins. - Yes, Mrs. Hawkins.

Younger every year.

None of your frippery, John Harrow.

But music and friends do make you feel...

- Where's Jim? - He's in the kitchen, I think.

Just put a head on that one, John.

It's going to thunder and lightning.

Then you best go lock yourself up in a closet.

You made that cake?

No, I didn't. And I'll thank you not to say I did.

Jim Hawkins made a cake!

Jim Hawkins made a cake!

No, I didn't.

Only girls make cakes.

My mother made this cake herself.

Surely she had to have a cake for her birthday.

Jim Hawkins dropped a cake!

Jim Hawkins dropped a cake!

Jim Hawkins dropped a cake!

Stop following me around.

Upon my soul!

Why, Jim, you didn't go and bake a...?

Here's the cake you made, Mother. I trust it's good.

It's the best cake ever.

I raise a mug to Jim Hawkins, proprietor of the Admiral Benbow.

- Jim. - Speech!

- Come on, get up. - Speech, speech.

Well, I don't know what to say, but ever since Father died...

and with Mother having to do the work, I'm truly glad each time she gets older.

I mean, then I get older too.

And soon I'll be able to do all the work and won't have to make speeches.

Here she comes.

Everybody to the taproom. We'll cut the cake in there.

Everybody take a seat.

Oh, Jim, there go the shutters.

- Go up and close them, will you? - At your service, ma'am.

- Now what? - I'm scared. Aren't you scared?

No, I'm not.

It's girls that make me nervous.

Why don't you go downstairs, where there's more room to be scared in.

- I want a bunk with a sea view. - This way, sir.

Have you seen this man around here before?

He looks like a seafaring man.

He certainly doesn't belong to these parts.

Hey!

I want a noggin of rum.

Yes, sir.

Mind, you clod.

Have an eye to that chest.

Here. Now, you never made this voyage, you understand?

You never seen me and you don't know nothing.

Get out.

What are you looking for?

Strangers, sonny, strangers.

I don't like strangers coming aboard me suddenly.

Makes my spine jump like a porpoise, it does.

- What might your name be? - Jim Hawkins.

Now, look here, Jim, you and me's going to be mates.

You'll get a silver four-penny bit every month...

if you watches out for strangers and comes and lets the old captain know...

when they tops the horizon.

- Well, what manner of strangers? - Seafaring men.

Well, all seafaring men?

No, no, no, son.

There's a special cut of the jib to these seafaring men.

But most especially, I want you to keep your eye open...

for a seafaring man with one leg.

- A seafaring man with one leg? - Aye.

Upon my word, sir, what shall I tell them? What do they want?

Never you mind what they want.

You go on down below and get me a noggin of rum.

A double noggin, Jim, because I'm becalmed.

Becalmed on a sea of troubles, and I've got to fill my sails again.

Yes, sir.

Who is he, Jim? What did he say?

I don't know. Something about seafaring men with no ears and no legs and no...

Hey, drop anchor, matey.

We'll fill the cask where you lie.

Rum for all hands, say I.

Here's a new port all full of pretty wenches...

and strong young buckoes.

Clear the decks for pleasant action.

Fill a pretty belly with grog and that's what makes the world...

spin on its poles, say I.

Hey, belay there.

- The rum. - I'm not much on strong liquor, sir.

Besides, we have to go now. It's getting...

"Go," say ye?

You'll stay.

You'll all stay.

Sit yourselves down on your binnacles.

Jim, matey, the rum.

I ain't like all seafaring men.

Genteel, I am, and a dove at heart, mates.

Why, I know some seafaring men, them as boarded a Spanish brig...

all loaded down with Castilian dons and their beauteous ladies.

And what did they do?

Genteel like me, ye thinks?

No. They slices them dons like bread loaves...

and feeds them to the sharks.

And what did they do to the beauteous ladies?

Why, after courting their favor, as it were...

saving your presence, matey...

they slits the veins of their pearly white arms...

and uses their blue blood to warm their rum.

And then what did they do, matey?

Bless my soul, sir, what else was left?

There was the song, Jim. Singing by all hands.

Now, come on. We'll all tip the stave.

Come on!

Come on, sing!

Bottle of rum, you old hag!

- Bottle of rum! - "Bottle of rum!"

We'll tip it again now. Come on!

- Dr. Livesey. - Mrs. Hawkins.

It was Mother's birthday. We were just having a little entertainment, doctor.

Well, my compliments, Mrs. Hawkins.

- A little brandy, Jim. - My pleasure, sir.

Come on, mates. Now we'll tip it again.

Thought sure we were in for a storm, but...

Hey! Silence there between decks.

You addressing me, sir?

Is it blowing a gale of wind you can't hear me? What did I say?

I have only this to say:

I don't know you. But by your look, if you continue drinking rum...

the world will soon be rid of a very dirty scoundrel.

I'll split you double, you...

If you do not lower that cutlass...

I promise on my honor that you shall hang at the next assizes.

And furthermore, sir...

I'm not only a doctor, I'm magistrate here.

And if I catch another breath of complaint against you...

if only for a piece of incivility like this,

I'll have you routed out of here.

Let that suffice?

I ask your patience, sir.

Just a squall from a poor old sailor man...

who took too much rum over his bowsprit.

I ask your pardon.

It was a nice party.

Don't worry, Mrs. Hawkins. Don't worry.

- Goodbye. - Thank you.

Praise be, Jim, the man was only full of talk.

But bless my soul, sir. He certainly can sing.

Well, sonny.

Come here.

Come here, sonny. A little closer.

Here.

- Now, is this here table for my mate Bill? - I don't know your mate Bill.

- But don't Bill live here? - No. Nobody but the captain.

Oh, captain, it is?

Truly, sir. I can...

Here comes my old mate Bill now. Bless his heart, to be sure.

Jim, lad! The rum.

I'm becalmed again.

Come, Bill. You know me.

You know an old shipmate, surely.

- Black Dog. - Black Dog as ever was.

Come for to see his old shipmate Billy.

- Well, speak up. - The porter, sonny. Porter.

Well?

Now, Bill, I've been after you, now.

No, by the powers, and there's an end to it!

If it comes to swinging, swing one, swing all.

I'll part your dirty wig!

Out, you blubberous barnacle.

Next time I'll sever your gullet.

- Humor him, Jim. I'll be back. - Where you going?

To Mr. Doolittle's. I'll get him to ride to Livesey's...

so he and his constables can come and get that man out of here at once.

Rum, Jim. Rum.

Are you hurt?

I gotta get away from here, Jim. I gotta slip my hawsers.

Captain, you've been drinking too much. Remember, the doctor said...

Doctors is all swabs. I've lived on rum, I tell you.

It's been meat and drink to me, man and wife.

And I needs rum now, Jim.

- Mother locked up all the rum. She said... - I've got to have it, Jim.

I gotta have it.

Look. See how me fingers fidget?

I can't stop it, Jim. I gotta have a drain of rum.

If I don't, I'll have the horrors.

And then I'll see Flint there behind you in the corner, just as plain as print.

- Well, is Flint the one-legged man? - No, no, but he'll be there too.

Both of them will be there if you don't get me the rum.

Oh, go on, quick. Before they come in and slips me the black spot.

- Well, what's the black spot? - It's a summons, Jim. A summons.

- Do they wanna kill you? - No, no, it's my sea chest they're after.

- What's in the sea chest? - Pieces of eight.

Pearls as big as ostrich eggs. All the gold your heart can desire.

- And just for a little noggin of rum, Jim. - Would a half a noggin do?

That's my matey.

- There we go, lad. - Wait here. I'll see.

Will any kind friend inform a poor blind man...

who has lost the precious sight of his eyes in the gracious defense...

of his native country, England, and God bless King George...

where in whatever part of this country he may now be.

You are at the Admiral Benbow, Black Hill Cove, sir.

I hear a voice.

A young voice.