“Yes, sir, you obey the order; but, at the same time, your laughing proves that you do not mind the punishment.”
“No more I do, sir. I spend half my time at the mast-head, and I’m used to it now.”
“But, Mr Templemore, ought you not to feel the disgrace of the punishment?” inquired the captain, severely.
“Yes, sir, if I felt I deserved it I should. I should not laugh, sir, if you sent me to the mast-head,” replied the boy, assuming a serious countenance.
“You see, Mr Markitall, that he can be grave,” observed the captain.
“I’ve tried all I can to make him so, sir,” replied the first-lieutenant; “but I wish to ask Mr Templemore what he means to imply by saying, ‘when he deserves it.’ Does he mean to say that I have ever punished him unjustly?”
“Yes, sir,” replied the boy, boldly; “five times out of six, I am mast-headed for nothing—and that’s the reason why I do not mind it.”
“For nothing, sir! Do you call laughing nothing?”
“I pay every attention that I can to my duty, sir; I always obey your orders; I try all I can to make you pleased with me—but you are always punishing me.”
“Yes, sir, for laughing, and, what is worse, making the ship’s company laugh.”