"Perhaps it would be well to show him at the start that I shall stand no nonsense from him," thought Tony, as he leaned his arms on the window sill, and looked into the galley. "Well, Snowball," said he, "is there anything I can do for you?"
"Who is you?" demanded the negro, plunging a long-handled fork into one of the kettles on the stove.
"I am the cabin boy, and the old man told me to report to you," replied Tony.
The cook turned upon him like a flash when he heard this. "Look heah, chile," he exclaimed, shaking the fork at Tony. "If you use any mo' sich onrespecful language as Snowball to me agin, I chuck you in de ribber. Dar can't no white trash like you talk dat ar way to me. Bring your lazy bones in here, an' take dat knife an' peel dem taters."
Tony again thought of the advice Bradley had given him while they were on their way to the clothing store, and what was more he was wise enough to act upon it. He had been told that he must never answer back, no matter how savagely he might be addressed. If he did that, he would have everybody in the schooner down on him, and then his life would be a hard one indeed. There were a thousand ways in which a sailor could bother a landsman, and the only way in which he could escape being made a victim of their malice, was to do cheerfully and willingly whatever he was told to do.
"I feel very cheerful just now, don't I?" thought Tony, as he walked into the galley, and began the work that had been assigned to him. "What would my father say if he could see me at this moment? I don't think it is quite safe to fool with that cook, for he looks to me like a man who would chuck a fellow over the side in a minute if he got mad at him. Say, doctor," he added, suddenly, knowing that if he wanted to keep up his spirits he must not give away to his gloomy thoughts, "I want to tell you——"
"I is Mr. Sands, I is," interrupted the cook.
All the rest of the crew aroused his ire every hour in the day by calling him some name he did not like, and he was determined that the cabin boy, the only person on board over whom he had any authority, should treat him with due respect.
"All right, Mr. Sands," said Tony, who was rather amused by this assumption of dignity. "I want to tell you that I know nothing whatever about a cabin-boy's duties, and still less about cooking, and I want you to be easy on me till I learn how to do my work."
"Well, den, peel dem taters thinner'n dat," said the negro, pointing at Tony with his long-handled fork. "It's wastin' the schooner's money to cut off so much tater wid dem skins."