“And sure, so I am Paddy Desmond, and if it’s to show that I come from old Ireland, I’m proud of the title,” said Gerald, taking his seat, and looking about him with an air of unconcern.
“I told you so,” whispered Tom. “I knew from the first that they would call you Paddy.”
Gerald quickly made himself at home, and took in good part all the quizzing his messmates chose to bestow on him.
The dinner at the “George” went off capitally. The Admiral put his young guests at their ease, and let them talk and laugh away to their hearts’ content, telling them all sorts of amusing anecdotes, and though he took good care not to allow them to drink more wine than their heads could carry, they unanimously declared that he was the jolliest old fellow they had ever met. Of course, he did not forget to tell all the company boxy Adair had made him carry his portmanteau, and to chuckle over the story for five minutes at least.
“A pretty pass the service has come to when midshipmen take such liberties with their superiors, eh, Captain Sourcrout?” he exclaimed, giving a poke in the ribs with his elbow to a stiff, old, martinet style of post-captain, who sat next to him, and had looked utterly horrified at his story.
“The world’s turned upside down, isn’t it? We shall have the youngsters mast-heading us next, if we don’t exactly please them, eh?”
Captain Sourcrout, unable to speak from indignation, could only shake his head and frown terribly, at which the midshipmen, as he was not their captain, laughed the more heartily. The Admiral had heard, too, of the trick Jack and his messmates had played with Quirk, the monkey, on Lieutenant Spry, of the marines, and while he told the story as he had received it from Jack, with a few amplifications of his own, the tears ran down his eyes, till Captain Sourcrout, boiling over with indignation, exclaimed:
“The navy has indeed come to a pretty pass when such things are allowed. Instead of being mast-headed, the three midshipmen should have been brought to a court-martial, and dismissed the service.”
“But, my dear Captain Sourcrout, the affair happened a good many years ago, remember,” interrupted the Admiral, wishing to tranquillise him, “and had not leniency been shown to the culprits, the service would have lost three promising young officers likely to prove ornaments to it. However, I would advise other youngsters not to imitate them. Such tricks don’t bear repetition, I’ll allow. By-the-bye, Captain Sourcrout, are you acquainted with my old shipmate, Jerry Hazledine? He served under me as a youngster, and I have kept an eye on him ever since. He hailed from Ireland, and as all his ways and doings savoured strongly of the Emerald Isle, he was known as Paddy throughout the service.”
The Admiral went on, without wailing to hear whether Captain Sourcrout was or was not personally acquainted with the officer in question.