“Oh, it isn’t brave,” said Phil, laughing and showing his white teeth. “His leg hurts him very badly sometimes, and he likes me to read to him then and tell him stories.”
“Oh,” said the officer; “then you read to him and tell him stories?”
“Yes,” said Phil, “but I sha’n’t read half so well as I should like; but I am trying very hard.”
“To be sure,” said the little officer. “You are the sort of boy who would. And you can tell stories?”
“Yes, three—I mean four; and Tom Dodds likes to hear them all over and over again.”
“Bravo!” said the little officer, tapping Phil on the shoulder with the telescope. “There, be a good boy, and you’ll get on and be something better than a powder monkey one of these days.”
“Who’s that?” said Phil, as the little man walked forward and ascended the companion ladder. “I like him, Jack, almost as much as I do you.”
“And so you ought,” said Jack, gruffly, “for that’s our admiral, Lord Nelson, the greatest man in the world.”