“Who’s Captain Olaf?” asked Muggs.
Ole was silent, but permitted the steward to remove at will the long, snarly white locks, which covered his head. The operator had been a barber once, and received extra pay for his services on board the ship in this capacity. He did his work in an artistic manner, parting and combing the waif’s hair as though he were dressing him for a fashionable party. He put a sailor’s knot in the black handkerchief under the boy’s collar, and then placed the blue cap on his head, a little on one side, so that he looked as jaunty as a dandy man-of-war’s-man.
“Now put on this jacket, my lad, and you will be all right,” continued the steward, as he gazed with pride and pleasure upon the work of his hands.
“More clothes!” exclaimed Ole. “I shall be baked. I sweat now with what I have on.”
“It’s hot in here; you will be cool enough when you go on deck. Here’s a pea-jacket for you, besides the other.”
“But that’s for winter. I never had so much clothes on before in my life.”
“You needn’t put the pea-jacket on, if you don’t want it. Now you look like a decent man, and you can go on deck and show yourself.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“But you must wash yourself clean every morning.”
“Do it every day!” exclaimed Ole, opening his eyes with astonishment.