“Now we’ll put the light out,” said one of the oldsters, covering the candlestick with a hat.
“If you will put your candle into my lantern,” observed the obsequious master-at-arms, “I can then report the lights out. Of course you will allow it to remain there?”
The suggestion was adopted; and the light was reported out to the first-lieutenant, at the very moment that it was taken out of the lantern again, and replaced in the candlestick. The duplicate supply began to have its effect upon our incipient heroes, who commenced talking of their friends. Bruce, a fine manly, honourable Scotchman, had the peculiarity of always allying himself, when half drunk, to the royal house who formerly sat upon the throne of England; but, when quite intoxicated, he was so treasonable as to declare himself the lawful King of Great Britain. Glass after glass increased his propinquity to the throne, till at last he seated himself on it, and the uproar of the whole party rose to that height, that the first-lieutenant sent out, desiring the midshipmen immediately to retire to their hammocks.
“Send me to bed! ‘Proud man, dressed in a little brief authority.’ If the Lord’s anointed had been respected, he, with millions, would be now bending the knee to me. Well, if I can’t be King of all England, at least I’ll be king in this berth. Tell me,” cried Bruce, seizing the unfortunate Prose by the collar, “am I not king?”
“Why—according—to—the—best—of—my—belief,” said Prose, “I—should—rather—be—inclined—to—think—that—you are—not—the—king.”
“Am not, base slave!” cried Bruce, throwing him on the deck, and putting his foot on his chest.
“No—if—I die for it—I don’t care—but if you are—not king—I must own—that—you—are one of—my thirty tyrants,” drawled out Prose, half suffocated with the pressure.
“I—do—declare,” cried Jerry, imitating Prose’s drawl, “that—he—has—squeezed—a pun—out—of—you.”
“Am not I king?” resumed Bruce, seizing Jerry, who had advanced within reach, to laugh at Prose.
“I feel that you ought to be,” replied Jerry: “and I don’t doubt your lineal descent: for you have all the dispositions of the race from which you claim descent. A boon, your gracious majesty,” continued Jerry, bending on one knee.