There was no false pride about Captain Leeward of H.M. paddle-frigate Osprey. Some commanding officers that I have known would have had one of these unfortunate castaways to tell his story in the sick-bay. But instead of this the captain told the doctor to bring him in to his quarters.
He was a brown-faced, hardy, bearded sailor, but his cheeks were hollow now from his want of food and terrible suffering.
One hand was tied up in a sling.
He bowed and scraped as he came in, and if ever a sailor looked shy he did.
He gave just one glance around him, and then looked at Leeward's pleasant smiling face. The glance reassured him.
"Why, jigger me," he said, hitching up his trousers with one hand, "jigger me, sir, if ever I cast anchor in such a pretty saloon as this afore. Easy chairs, sofa, piano, fiddle and all, to say nothing about flowers and fairy-lights. Cap'n Leeward, sir, I ain't in a dream, am I? Mebbe the doctor here will 'blige by sticking a pin in me, up to the blessed head, if I am."
"Never a dream, Mr. Goodwin. Well, if you will bring yourself to an anchor, we'd like to hear your story. Have a little wine, sir?"
"Purser's wine is the only sort as suits me, sir."
"Steward, the rum!"
A tumbler and wine-glass were placed before the good sailor. The latter he pushed aside. Then, while the castaway held the tumbler with all the four fingers turned towards the captain, the steward filled it fully four inches. This is what is called "a bo's'n's nip".