“Mizzen-top there!” after a little came a roaring hail from the mate; “what are you about up there, sir? Do you mean to lay down or not?”
On hearing this, I crept on my knees to the rim of the top, and looking over, cried out in the shrill voice of my childhood, “Please, sir, I am lying down.”
The captain was staring up at me, but on hearing this, he turned his back with a shake of his figure.
“Come down, Master Rockafellar,” sung out the mate in a voice full of laughter.
When I heard this I crawled over to another edge of the top where I could see him, and piped out, “The captain said I was to lay down, sir.”
“‘PLEASE, SIR, I AM LYING DOWN.’”
It was wonderful that my thin voice should have carried in such a wind, yet I was heard plainly enough. Then arose a shout of laughter from the midshipmen; the mate called something to Mr. Cock, who in a trice came bundling up the mizzen rigging, and flounded with a crimson face into the top.