One of the men, a smart active fellow, who went by the name of Jack Robinson, and had been an unsuccessful candidate for the office of boatswain, replied in a loud and distinct tone, "Ay, ay!"
This was agreed on as the test. I knew the crisis had come, and awaited with painful anxiety the result.
Mr. Bachelder rushed forward into the midst of the group near the end of the windlass.
"Who said, 'Ay, ay'?" he inquired, in an angry tone.
"I did," replied Robinson.
"YOU did! Don't you know how to reply to an officer in a proper manner?"
"How SHOULD I reply?" said Robinson, doggedly.
"Say 'Ay, ay, SIR,' when you reply to me," cried Bachelder, in a tone of thunder at the same time seizing him by the collar and giving him a shake "and," continued he, "don't undertake to cut any of your shines here, my lad! If you do, you will be glad to die the death of a miserable dog. Lay aft, men, and round in the weather braces!"
"Ay, ay, sir! Ay, ay, sir!" was the respectful response from every side.
The yards were trimmed to the breeze, and when the watch gathered again on the forecastle it was unanimously voted that IT WOULD NOT DO!