"Well, you know, if a man has no privilege, what's the use of being a captain?"
"Very true, my lord," said the toad-eater, with a low bow.
I will now give a short description of his lordship. He was a smart, dapper, well made man, with a handsome, but not an intellectual countenance; cleanly and particular in his person; and, assisted by the puffs of Toady, had a very good opinion of himself; proud of his aristocratic birth, and still more vain of his personal appearance. His knowledge on most points was superficial—high life, and anecdotes connected with it, were the usual topics of his discourse; at his own table he generally engrossed all the conversation: and while his guests drank his wine, "they laughed with counterfeited glee," &c. His reading was comprised in two volumes octavo, being the Memoirs of the Count de Grammont, which amusing and aristocratical work was never out of his hand. He had been many years at sea; but strange to say, knew nothing, literally nothing, of his profession. Seamanship, navigation, and every thing connected with the service, he was perfectly ignorant of. I had heard him spoken of as a good officer, before he joined us; and I must, in justice to him, say that he was naturally good tempered, and I believe as brave a man as ever drew a sword.
He seldom made any professional remark, being aware of his deficiency, and never ventured beyond his depth intentionally. When he came on the quarter-deck, he usually looked at the weather main-brace, and if it was not as taut as a bar, would order it to be made so. Here he could not easily commit himself: but it became a bye-word with us when we laughed at him below. He had a curious way of forgetting, or pretending to forget, the names of men and things, I presume, because they were so much beneath him; and in their stead, substituted the elegant phrases of "What's-his-name," "What-do-ye-call-'em," and "thingumbob."
One day he came on deck, and actually gave me the following very intelligible order. "Mr, What's-his-name, have the goodness to—what-do-ye-call-'em,—the,—the thingumbob."
"Ay, ay, my lord," said I. "Afterguard! haul taut the weather main-brace." This was exactly what he meant.
He was very particular and captious when not properly addressed. When an order is given by a commanding officer, it is not unusual to say, "Very good, Sir;" implying that you perfectly understand, and are going cheerfully to obey it. I had adopted this answer, and gave it to his lordship when I received an order from him, saying "Very good, my lord."
"Mr Mildmay," said his lordship, "I don't suppose you mean anything like disrespect, but I will thank you not to make that answer again: it is for me to say 'very good,' and not you. You seem to approve of my order, and I don't like it; I beg you will not do it again, you know."
"Very good, my lord," said I, so inveterate is habit. "I beg your lordship's pardon, I mean very well."
"I don't much like that young man," said his lordship to his toady, who followed him up and down the quarter-deck, like "the bob-tail cur," looking his master in the face. I did not hear the answer, but of course it was an echo.