"Stop that noise," said he, very quietly, "and go forward at once."
"Pretty tall talk, that," growled the brawler. "I ain't a-goin' for'ard for nobody. One man's as good as another."
The words were barely out of his mouth, when the "quiet" Captain's clinched fist flew right into it, with a shock that made his teeth rattle like dominoes, and sent him sprawling on his back.
"Put that man in irons, Mr. Hawkins, and pass him down 'tween-decks," said the Captain, walking aft as if nothing had happened.
"Ay, he's the one to settle 'em," muttered old Herrick, nodding approvingly. "I tell ye, Frank, my boy, it's as hard to git off any foolin' on our 'old man', as to git a 'pology out of a middy."
"How's that?" asked Austin, seeing by the twinkle of the old quartermaster's eye that there was a good story coming.
"Ah, don't ye know that yarn? Well, it's worth hearin', too; I got it from a Britisher last time I was here. Ye see, there was a young middy aboard one o' Nelson's ships in the old war, who was always in some scrape or other; and one day the third officer, Mr. Thorpe, got riled with him, and called him a confounded young bear.
"'Well,' says the mid, quick as winkin', 'if I'm a bear, you're not fit to carry bones to a bear, anyhow.'
"'What! what!' cries Thorpe—'mutiny, as I live! You whelp, I'll teach you to talk that way to me!' and off he goes to the Cap'n, and reports him for disrespect to his superior officer.
"Well, the Cap'n calls up Mr. Middy, and tells him this sort o' thing won't do nohow, and he must either 'pologize or leave the ship. So the mid takes off his cap with a reg'lar dancin'-school bow, and says, 'Mr. Thorpe, I said just now that you were not fit to carry bones to a bear; I was wrong, and willingly apologize, for I now see that you are fit to carry them.'