"We won't come down till he's chained up. Look at him! Careering round and snapping at everything. Save us, Fletcher! Save us!"
Old Fletcher, smiling kindly, came along from the poop, asking: "Where is he?"
"There; there—near the water-butt! Do be careful! Get at him from behind. Wave a lettuce leaf in front of him. We've brought a lettuce in case he attacked us. Barnes! Barnes! Bring the lettuce! 'Kaiser Bill' has broken out!"
The old stoker, peering about for the tortoise, found him just where he had left him—his legs and head well tucked "inside"—-picked him up, placed him inside his "jumper"; got a lettuce from Barnes, who grunted "they young gen'l'men will be a-breaking their blooming necks afore long, I reckon"; and went aft again, to try and tempt the tortoise to put his head out, and show some interest in the picnic.
Then the Padre and some of the snotties ventured on deck, again, though most of them preferred to lie out on the tops'l-yard, which was so frail, and its "lifts" so badly "set up", that it bent ominously, as did the fore-topmast itself.
"Come down off that yard!" Mr. Meredith shouted. "Only two of you are to be there at a time."
They begged him to let them set the upper tops'l, but that yard was more like a broom-handle than anything else.
"The Hun can do it; no one else. The mast is rotten, and the yard too," Mr. Meredith shouted. (The Hun was the lightest of all the midshipmen.) So the others gathered in the "top" and watched the Hun swarm up the topmast, and so out on that tiny yard, casting off the gaskets of the tiny sail.
Then they dashed down on deck, before Mr. Meredith's voice bellowed out: "Let fall upper tops'l gaskets; overhaul your buntlines; sheet home, sheet home. Belay all!"
Then came the "pipe": "Clear lower deck! All hands 'bout ship'!"