"No; he's got a wig on, can't ye see? It's the capting's wig, wot the steward airs sometimes. It's a theatre wig."
"Pshaw! Do you think the captain is agoin' to lend the acting bosun his 'ed dress. Besides, whoever heerd of a captain in the Rile Navy wearin' a red wig?"
These and similar observations caused the commander to seek the advice of the little surgeon, who thereupon sent for Mr. Thompson, and after a few preliminary remarks asked him why he wore a wig.
"Well, you see, sir, I don't like looking like a Chinaman on duty; and as the captain has been good enough to lend me this, I wear it until I can get one more suited to me."
"That's right enough, but it is a very poisonous colour, and will ruin the growth of your hair. It would be a thousand pities to spoil that—"
Mr. Thompson looked at the doctor for a moment, but as no smile illuminated his face, Jerry concluded he was serious in his advice.
"But is it pisonous to wear for a few hours every day?"
"Deadly. I can show you the picture of a case, if you like to step down to my surgery."
"No thankee, sir; I don't like that place, with all politeness to you. I'll just take this wig back to the steward, as I don't care to pison my hair."
Mr. Thompson accordingly doffed his conspicuous adornment, and went about his duty with his uniform cap pulled tightly over his forehead, which gave him the appearance of having been bonneted.