"Take care that you don't break it, Mr Simple."
"O then, I'm all right," thought I; "he means the tumbler:" so down I
went, called up the gunroom steward, and desired him to give me a glass
of grog for Mr Doball. The steward tumbled out in his shirt, mixed the
grog, and gave it to me, and I carried it up very carefully to the
quarter-deck.
During my absence, the master had called the captain, and in pursuance
of his orders, O'Brien had called the first lieutenant, and when I came
up the ladder, they were both on deck. As I was ascending I heard the
master say, "I have sent young Simple down for my night-glass, but he is
so long, that I suppose he has made some mistake. He's but half a
fool."
"That I deny," replied Mr Falcon, the first lieutenant, just as I put
my foot on the quarter-deck; "he's no fool."
"Perhaps not," replied the master. "O, here he is. What made you so
long, Mr Simple--where is my night-glass?"
"Here it is, sir," replied I, handing him the tumbler of grog; "I told
the steward to make it stiff." The captain and the first lieutenant
burst out into a laugh--for Mr Doball was known to be very fond of
grog; the former walked aft to conceal his mirth; but the latter
remained. Mr Doball was in a great rage. "Did I not say that the boy
was half a fool?" cried he to the first lieutenant. "At all events,
I'll not allow that he has proved himself so in this instance," replied
Mr Falcon, "for he has hit the right nail on the head." Then the first
lieutenant joined the captain, and they both went off laughing. "Put it
on the capstan, sir," said Mr Doball to me, in an angry voice. "I'll
punish you by-and-by." I was very much astonished; I hardly knew
whether I had done right or wrong; at all events, thought I to myself, I
did for the best; so I put it on the capstan, and walked to my own side
of the deck. The captain and first lieutenant then went below, and
O'Brien came aft.
I told him what had occurred, and how the master was angry with me.
O'Brien laughed very heartily, and told me never to mind, but to keep in
the lee-scuppers and watch him. "A glass of grog is a bait that he'll
play round till he gorges. When you see it to his lips, go up to him
boldly, and ask his pardon, if you have offended him, and then, if he's
a good Christian, as I believe him to be, he'll not refuse it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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