The Bo'sun stared from Barnabas to the Captain and back again.
"Begging your Honor's parding," said he, touching the brim of the glazed hat, "but surely nobody don't need to be told that 'ere?"
"It would seem so, Jerry."
"Why then, Cap'n—since you ax me, I should tell you—bold an' free like, as the First Gentleman in Europe—ah! or anywhere else—was Lord Nelson an' your Honor."
As he spoke the Bo'sun stood up very straight despite his wooden leg, and when he touched his hat again, his very pigtail seemed straighter and stiffer than ever.
"Young sir," said the Captain, regarding Barnabas from the corners of his eyes, "what d' ye say to that?"
"Why," returned Barnabas, "now I come to think of it, I believe the
Bo'sun is right."
"Sir," nodded the Captain, "the Bo'sun generally is; my Bo'sun, sir, is as remarkable as that leg of his which he has contrived so that it will screw on or off—in sections sir—I mean the wooden one."
"But," said Barnabas, beginning to stroke his chin in the argumentative way that was all his father's, "but, sir, I was meaning gentlemen yet living, and Lord Nelson, unfortunately, is dead."
"Bo'sun," said the Captain, "what d' ye say to that?"