“Boatswain’s mate!”
“If you please, sir,” I asked tremulously, “I should like to be introduced to the gunner’s daughter!”
“Oh, very good, sir!” screamed Captain Boltrope, rubbing his hands and absolutely capering about the deck with rage. “Oh, d—n you! Of course you shall! Oh, ho! the gunner’s daughter! Oh, h—ll! this is too much! Boatswain’s mate!” Before I well knew where I was, I was seized, borne to an eight-pounder, tied upon it, and flogged!
CHAPTER IV
As we sat together in the cockpit, picking the weevils out of our biscuit, Briggs consoled me for my late mishap, adding that the “naval salute,” as a custom, seemed just then to be honored more in the breach than the observance. I joined in the hilarity occasioned by the witticism, and in a few moments we were all friends. Presently Swizzle turned to me:—
“We have just been planning how to confiscate a keg of claret, which Nips, the purser, keeps under his bunk. The old nipcheese lies there drunk half the day, and there’s no getting at it.”
“Let’s get beneath the stateroom and bore through the deck, and so tap it,” said Lankey.
The proposition was received with a shout of applause. A long half-inch auger and bit was procured from Chips, the carpenter’s mate, and Swizzle, after a careful examination of the timbers beneath the wardroom, commenced operations. The auger at last disappeared, when suddenly there was a slight disturbance on the deck above. Swizzle withdrew the auger hurriedly; from its point a few bright red drops trickled.
“Huzza! send her up again!” cried Lankey.