“They ‘haul and hold’ just the same, sir—I think they work all the better for being merry.”
“And pray, sir, what business have you to think?” replied the first-lieutenant, now very angry. “Captain Plumbton, as this young gentleman thinks proper to interfere with me and the discipline of the ship, I beg you will see what effect your punishing may have upon him.”
“Mr Templemore,” said the captain, “you are, in the first place, too free in your speech, and, in the next place, too fond of laughing. There is, Mr Templemore, a time for all things—a time to be merry, and a time to be serious. The quarter-deck is not a fit place for mirth.”
“I’m sure the gangway is not,” shrewdly interrupted the boy.
“No—you are right, nor the gangway; but you may laugh on the forecastle, and when below with your messmates.”
“No, sir, we may not; Mr Markitall always sends out if he hears us laughing.”
“Because, Mr Templemore, you’re always laughing.”
“I believe I am, sir; and if it’s wrong I’m sorry to displease you, but I mean no disrespect. I laugh in my sleep—I laugh when I awake—I laugh when the sun shines—I always feel so happy; but though you do mast-head me, Mr Markitall, I should not laugh, but be very sorry, if any misfortune happened to you.”
“I believe you would, boy—I do indeed, Mr Markitall,” said the captain.
“Well, sir,” replied the first-lieutenant, “as Mr Templemore appears to be aware of his error, I do not wish to press my complaint—I have only to request that he will never laugh again.”