As soon as Captain Delmar was gone, my mother turned round, and said, “You naughty, mischievous boy, to play such pranks. I’ll have that dog killed, without you promise me never to do so again.”
“Do what again, mother?”
“None of your pretended innocence with me. I’ve been told of the pigtail that Bob pulls at. That’s all very well at the barracks with the marines, sir, but do you know who it is that you have been playing that trick to?”
“No mother, I don’t. Who is he?”
“Who is he, you undutiful child? why, he’s—he’s the Honourable Captain Delmar.”
“Well, what of that?” replied I. “He’s a naval captain, ain’t he?”
“Yes; but he’s the nephew of the lady who brought me up and educated me. It was he that made the match between me and our father: so if it had not been for him, child, you never would have been born.”
“Oh that’s it,” replied I. “Well, mother, if it had not been for me, he’d never have come into the shop, and found you.”
“But, my child, we must be serious; you must be very respectful to Captain Delmar, and play no tricks with him; for you may see him very often, and, perhaps, he will take a fancy to you; and if he does, he may do you a great deal of good, and bring you forward in the world; so promise me.”
“Well, mother, I’ll promise you I’ll leave him alone if you wish it. Law, mother, you should have seen how the middy laughed at him; it was real fun to make a gallant captain run in the way he did.”