Clancy, a red-haired youth of twenty-four or so, rating as a first class machinist’s mate, forthwith took over his duties. He viewed Nelson severely, standing beside the bunk with legs spread wide and oil-stained hands on his hips.
“Now then, Mr. Neptune, you heard the luff’s words, didn’t you?”
Nelson nodded and smiled.
“What you grinning about? Respect is what I’ll have from you, my son, and a lot of it! Don’t you know better than to grin at your superior officer? What sort of manners do they teach you in the Naval Reserve? Stow that grin, I tell you, and look respectful!”
“Yes, sir,” responded Nelson demurely. The petty officer grunted.
“That’s better. Now then, hungry?”
“No, thank you.”
“Good thing you ain’t. You wouldn’t get anything fit to eat on this boat, anyway. Just the same there’ll be some gruel for you pretty soon if the cook don’t forget it or fall asleep. Now then, Cookie, look alive with the young gentleman’s wearing apparel! Oh, you’ve got it, have you?”
“I have; and as to fallin’ asleep, believe me, Clancy, I ain’t never fallen asleep standin’ on my two feet like you do most of the time.”