“Yes, sir, that is what I mean, most decidedly. I hope no offence; Captain Savage; but I did not intend to displease you by my language.”
“Very good, Mr Muddle,” replied the captain; “it’s the first time that I have spoken to you on the subject, recollect that it will be the last.”
“The first time!” replied the carpenter, who could not forget his philosophy; “I beg your pardon, Captain Savage—you found just the same fault with me on this quarter-deck 27,672 years ago, and—”
“If I did, Mr Muddle,” interrupted the captain, very angrily, “depend upon it that at the same time I ordered you to go aloft, and attend to your duty, instead of talking nonsense on the quarter-deck; and although, as you say, you and I cannot recollect it, if you did not obey that order instantaneously, I also put you in confinement, and obliged you to leave the ship as soon as she returned to port. Do you understand me, sir?”
“I rather think, sir,” replied the carpenter, humbly touching his hat, and walking to the main rigging, “that no such thing took place, for I went up immediately, as I do now; and,” continued the carpenter, who was incurable, as he ascended the rigging, “as I shall again in another 27,672 years.”
“That man is incorrigible with his confounded nonsense,” observed the captain to the first lieutenant. “Every mast in the ship would go over the side, provided he could get any one to listen to his ridiculous theory.”
“He is not a bad carpenter, sir,” replied the first lieutenant.
“He is not,” rejoined the captain; “but there is a time for all things.”
“Mr Simple, what are you about, sir?”
“I was listening to what you said,” replied I, touching my hat.