"'Jack Robinson' saluted the little Skipper and Dot."
"Ay, ay, sir!" roared the big sailor, as if he were speaking in a storm; and he swung round again, with his packages flying out, like the governor balls of the ship's engine.
"Did you bring that breech-loading cannon?"
"Ay, ay, sir!" said the sailor, holding up the hand which held the parcels.
"And the brass anchor?"
"Ay, ay, sir!" and the hand was lifted again.
"And I told you to buy a coil of well-laid cable."
"Ay, ay, sir!—best fishing-line. In my 'at, sir."
"Right then; you can take them back: they will not be wanted."
"Ay, ay, sir!" cried the man, but not so loudly and sharply; and he gazed now at the Skipper, who looked back at him in his misery; and strive how he would, he could not keep back one little tear, which squeezed itself out of his left eye and tickled his cheek very much, as it slowly ran down.