“To be sure there is, and ammunition enough in it, to keep eight carronades in lively conversation for a couple of hours.” “A carronade is what you call a gun, is it not?” “A piece of a one—being somewhat short, like your friend Jack Tier, who is shaped a good deal like a carronade.” Rose smiled—nay, half laughed, for Harry’s pleasantries almost took the character of wit in her eyes, but she did not the less pursue her inquiries. “Guns! And where are they, if they be on this vessel?” “Do not use such a lubberly expression, my dear Rose, if you respect your father’s profession. _On_ a vessel is a new fangled Americanism, that is neither fish, flesh, nor red-herring, as we sailors say—neither English nor Greek.” “What should I say, then? My wish is not to parade sea-talk, but to use it correctly, when I use it at all.” “The expression is hardly ‘sea-talk,’ as you call it, but every-day English—that is when rightly used. On a vessel is no more English, than it is nautical—no sailor ever used such an expression.” “Tell me what I ought to say, and you will find me a willing, if not an apt scholar. I am certain of having often read it, in the newspapers, and that quite lately.” “I’ll answer for that, and it’s another proof of its being wrong. _In_ a vessel is as correct as _in_ a coach, and _on_ a vessel as wrong as can be; but you can say _on board_ a vessel, though not ‘on a vessel!’ Not on the ‘boards of a vessel,’ as Mrs. Budd has it.” “Mr. Mulford!” “I beg a thousand pardons, Rose, and will offend no more—though she does make some very queer mistakes!” “My aunt thinks it an honor to my uncle’s memory to be able to use the language of his professional life, and if she do sometimes make mistakes that are absurd, it is with a motive so respectable that no sailor should deride them.” “I am rebuked for ever. Mrs. Budd may call the anchor a silver spoon, hereafter, without my even smiling. But, if the aunt has this kind remembrance of a seaman’s life, why cannot the niece think equally well of it.” “Perhaps she does,” returned Rose, smiling again—“seeing all its attractions through the claims of Capt. Spike.” “I think half the danger from him gone, now that you seem so much on your guard. What an odious piece of deception, to persuade Mrs. Budd that you were fast falling into a decline!” “One so odious that I shall surely quit the brig at the first port we enter, or even in the first suitable vessel that we may speak.” “And Mrs. Budd—could you persuade her to such a course?” “You scarce know us, Harry Mulford. My aunt commands, when there is no serious duty to perform, but we change places, when there is. I can persuade her to any thing that is right, in ten minutes.”