Salt Water: The Sea Life and Adventures of Neil D'Arcy the MidshipmanKingston, William Henry Giles
General
Salt Water: The Sea Life and Adventures of Neil D'Arcy the Midshipman
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Midshipmen -- Juvenile fiction; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
"I was there! Yes; but I know you speak a hanged lie, if you say that,"
exclaimed Trundle.
"What's that you say?" shouted Chissel, highly indignant at being told
he lied before all his crew, though he doubtless would have cared very
little about the matter, had the polite remark been made when the two
were alone.
Just then Mr Summers, who was the officer of the watch, sung out,
"Hands about ship! Where's the boatswain?"
"Never in his station," observed Chissel, as Trundle, call in mouth, was
making his way forward. "And very little use when he is there," he
added, either thinking the boatswain would not hear him, or caring very
little if he did.
Trundle caught the words just as he was going up the fore-ladder, and
though he could not just then take his pipe from his mouth to utter a
retort, he gave a fierce look with one of his ferrety eyes, which showed
that he acknowledged himself deeply in his messmate's debt. His pipe
sounded more shrill than usual, as he could not give any other vent to
his feelings.
"There'll be a row before long between those two heroes, just you mark
that," said I to Dicky, as we both hurried off to our stations.
"Ay," said he, giving me a wink; "and I think I can put a spoke in their
wheel to help them along."
It was near twelve o'clock, the ship being put about, the decks cleared
up, and grog served out preparatory to dinner, when the boatswain made
his appearance before the carpenter, his anger in no way appeased.
"What's that you were saying about me, Mr Ichabod Chissel, I should
like to know?" he exclaimed, in an irate tone.
"Why, Mr Trundle, no man likes to have his ferocity (veracity?)
doubted, and if you goes for to affirm that I'm a liar--I don't mince
matters, you'll understand me,--why, all I've got to say is, that you're
the biggest speaker of untruths as ever was born, whoever the mother was
who got you. Put that in your pipe, Mr Trundle, and smoke it."
This most insulting of all remarks increased tenfold the boatswain's
rage, and the two would have come instantly to fisticuffs, but that,
fortunately, at that moment the order to pipe to dinner was given. The
boatswain's call came into requisition, and all hands, except the watch
on deck, were soon busily employed in discussing the contents of a cask
of beef, boasting of but a small proportion of fat or lean and a
considerable superfluity of bone.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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