“Nay, and I never set up as a joker either,” said the carpenter; “but about this ’ere head of mine, I allus reckoned it was more useful than ornamental. What did you mean was the matter with it, Mr Poole?”
“Oh, only that it was swelled out so since you’ve been head contractor and engineer-in-chief for the getting the gunboat off the rocks. Doesn’t your hat feel very tight?”
“Nay, sir, and you are all wrong, for there’s such a breeze here coming off the sea, hitting slap agin the rocks and coming back right in your face, that I have been longing for a piece of paper to fold up and put inside the band of my hat to make it tight. Why I nearly lost it twice.”
“Oh,” said Poole, “I thought it must be swelled. You’ve grown so important ever since you took the job.”
“Never mind what he says, Chips,” cried Fitz, “he’s only chaffing you.”
“Bless your ’eart, sir,” cried the carpenter, “I know: this aren’t the first voyage I’ve had with Master Poole.”
“But what do you mean about being ornamental?” said Poole.
“Oh, us Teals, sir, and our boats. Here have we been figuring about holding up our rifles in the sun, and with these here cutlashes getting in the men’s way wherever we rowed. Regular ornamental I calls us, never so much as fired a shot or hit any one on the nose with one’s fist. We have done a bit of shouting though. I’ve hooroared till if I had tried to do any more, I should roar like a sick bull in a cow-yard shut up to eat straw, while all the cows were in the next field getting fat on grass. I want to know what’s the use of our coming at all!”
“As supporters of the Don,” said Fitz; “for prestige.”
“For what, sir?”