“Well, you’ll know them by heart soon; and to ensure that, remember to take them with you whenever you’re mastheaded.”
“Of course, sir, if you wish it,” I answered.
He gave a comical look at me under his bushy eyebrows, and turned on his heel.
After this I accompanied Tom into the berth. Old Nettleship was there. I told him of the way the marine had behaved, and said that for the sake of keeping up the dignity of the midshipmen, I considered it necessary to make his conduct known, though I had no ill-feeling towards the man himself.
At this remark the old mate burst into a hearty fit of laughter.
“Midshipmen generally find it necessary to carry their dignity in their pockets; and I’d advise you, Paddy, to put yours there, though I approve of your spirit. The man will have been relieved some time ago, and you’ll find it difficult to recognise him among others.”
“Oh! I know his name—it was Tower,” I said in a tone of confidence.
At this there was a general roar of laughter.
“According to your notion all the jollies are Towers,” cried Nettleship, when he regained his voice. “Why, Paddy, the muskets are all marked with the name of the Tower of London, where the arms are stored before they are served out.”
“Shure how should I know anything about the Tower of London?” I asked. “I’m after thinking it’s a poor place compared with Castle Ballinahone.”