“Will somebody, please, take this chap away and put his head in the flour-bin,” said Mr. Bobstay. “His sentiments are simply disgraceful.”
And two brawny sailors took poor Dick away (kicking meekly) and dipped his head into the flour-bin until he assured them that he would behave better in future.
“Life is no longer worth living,” said Ralph. “Has anybody got such a thing as a pistol handy?”
Mr. Bobstay was overcome with emotion, for he loved Ralph rather better than his own mother; and the crew, quite unmanned, sobbed on each other’s shoulders.
“Come,” says Ralph, “a pistol!”
Mr. Bobstay, who was one of the most tender-hearted creatures living, could never refuse anything to the friend of his heart. So the good fellow reluctantly produced a full-sized horse-pistol and proceeded to load it as quickly as his hiccupping sobs would allow him, while Ralph was taking an affectionate leave of his beloved ship-mates.
“Here you are, Ralph,” he said, handing him the loaded pistol. “Bless you, my boy. Be cool and aim straight. It—it’ll be soon over!”
And the brawny seaman fairly sobbed like a girl.
“My friends,” said Ralph, “for the last time, farewell! And when I am dead convey my respectful compliments to Miss Josephine and tell her that she’s done it and I hope she likes it.”