“That’s what I say, sir,” said the old sailor, leaning his arms on the bulwark, “just like a gamecock.”
“And assumes such an air of superiority,” continued the middy.
“Just like you do, sir, to’rds us common sailors,” said the man, chuckling.
“Don’t you tell lies, Dick,” said the lad sharply. “I always treat the sailors as an officer and a gentleman should.”
“So you do, sir, so you do! and it was only my gammon. But you do wish you was a swaddy now, and wore a red coat instead of a blue.”
“No I don’t, Dick,” said the lad colouring; “but I do think we naval officers ought to wear swords, the same as those boy-soldiers.”
“So you ought, sir;” said the sailor, winking to himself; “but never you mind about that, sir. If so be as it comes to a brush with the niggers, I’ll grind you up a cutlash, with a hedge so sharp as you might shave yourself with it. Perhaps you’d like me to do it now, sir, if your razor is feeling a bit dull?”
“Now, look here, old Dick Dunnage,” said the middy; “that’s cheek; and I won’t have cheek from you, so I tell you.”
“Cheek, sir,” said the old sailor, with assumed innocence. “I didn’t mean to shave only your cheek, sir, but your chin as well.”
“Now that’ll do, Dick. I’m not ashamed of having no beard, and I’m not ashamed of being a boy, so now then.”