“What can ye do?”
“We can read, and write, and count,” said I, taking the words out of Jack’s mouth; for I felt that his brusque manner of replying was not calculated to commend us to the captain.
“Oh, you can read, and write, and count, can ye?” repeated the captain, with deep sarcasm. “If ye had said ye could feed, and fight, and shout, it would have bin more to the purpose.”
“Perhaps we can do a little of that sort of thing, too,” suggested Jack, with a broad grin.
“Hah?” ejaculated the captain. “Wot else can ye do?”
“Oh, anything,” said Jack.
“I gin’rally find,” observed the captain, “that w’en a boy says he can do anything, he very soon proves that he can do nothing.”
“Well, I don’t mean that exactly,” rejoined Jack; “I mean we can try anything.”
“Ha! that’s more to the pint. Where did ye come from?”
We looked at each other. “That,” said I, “is a matter of no importance to any one but ourselves. We have run away from home, and we want to go to sea as fast as possible. If you are willing to take us, we are willing to go. What say you?”