As Freddie gazed at him, the Little Boy slowly collected his wits, and a light began to dawn upon him.
"Have you been to China?" said he.
"Right-o!" cried the Sailorman. "To China I have been——" in a queer sing-song, as if he might have been marching in time to it round a capstan, hauling in an anchor: "To China I have been, and a many ports I've seen, near and far; I can sail before the mast or behind it just as fast, I'm a tar, I'm a tar, I'm a tar!"
Freddie continued to stare at him with increasing astonishment.
"Are you a sailor, sir?" said he.
"Wot, me? I'm Lemuel Mizzen, A.B., that's me, and I sail the deep blue sea from Maine to Afrikee, and round again on an even keel to Cochin China for cochineal, and back to Chili for Chili sauce, and home again to Banbury Cross—that's me! Lemuel Mizzen, able seaman! Fed on hard tack or soft tack, or a starboard tack or a port tack, it's all the same to me! Now then, skipper, you piped me up, wot's the orders?"
"Please, sir," said Freddie, "would you mind telling me what it is you would like to have?"
"Me? Douse my binnacle light, wot I want is a chew o' terbacker; but the question before the chart-house is, wot do you want, skipper?"
"I don't want anything," said Freddie.