“There, that will do,” said the first lieutenant. “Now, my little fellow, your mouth is nice and clean, and you’ll enjoy your breakfast. It was impossible for you to have eaten anything with your mouth in such a nasty state. When it’s dirty again, come to me and I’ll be your dentist.”
One day I was on the forecastle with Mr Chucks, the boatswain, who was very kind to me. He had been showing me how to make the various knots and bends of rope which are used in our service. I am afraid that I was very stupid, but he showed me over and over again, until I learnt how to make them. Amongst others, he taught me a fisherman’s bend, which he pronounced to be the king of all knots; “and, Mr Simple,” continued he, “there’s a moral in that knot. You observe, that when the parts are drawn the right way, and together, the more you pull, the faster they hold, and the more impossible to untie them; but see, by hauling them apart, how a little difference, a pull the other way, immediately disunites them, and then how easy they cast off in a moment. That points out the necessity of pulling together in this world, Mr Simple, when we wish to hold on, and that’s a piece of philosophy worth all the twenty-six thousand and odd years of my friend the carpenter, which leads to nothing but a brown study, when he ought to be attending to his duty.”
“Very true, Mr Chucks, you are the better philosopher of the two.”
“I am the better educated, Mr Simple, and, I trust, more of a gentleman. I consider a gentleman to be, to a certain degree, a philosopher; for very often he is obliged, to support his character as such, to put up with what another person may very properly fly in a passion about. I think coolness is the great characterstick of a gentleman. In the service, Mr Simple, one is obliged to appear angry without indulging the sentiment. I can assure you, that I never lose my temper, even when I use my rattan.”
“Why, then, Mr Chucks, do you swear so much at the men? surely that is not gentlemanly?”
“Most certainly not, sir. But I must defend myself by observing the very artificial state in which we live on board of a man-of-war. Nothing would afford me more pleasure than to be able to carry on the duty as a gentleman, but that’s impossible.”
“I really cannot see why.”
“Perhaps, then, Mr Simple, you will explain to me why the captain and first lieutenant swear.”
“That I do not pretend to answer, but they only do so upon an emergency.”
“Exactly so; but, sir, their ’mergency is my daily and hourly duty. In the continual working of the ship I am answerable for all that goes amiss. The life of a boatswain is a life of ’mergency, and therefore I swear.”