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Updated: June 26, 2025
Riding citywards through the deepening twilight I bethought me of the Midshipmite who, amid the roar and tumult of grim battle, had been "too busy" to be afraid; of the round-headed gunner who, like his gun, was ready and eager for more, and of the tall lieutenant who, with death in many awful shapes shrieking and crashing about him, felt "rotten" by reason of a bruised finger and failing light.
"Well, and what does that prove?" said jolly Butcher Billing. Mr. William Moody, boatbuilder, a liver-complexioned citizen, undertook to reply. "What does that prove? What does that prove when the midshipmite was found with his head in the mixedpickle jar? It proved that his head was lean, and t' other part was rounder."
My Midshipmite, being a hardy veteran in world-shaking naval battles, permitted himself to smile. "But, you see, sir," he gently explained, "it's really far safer out here than being shut up in a gun-turret or or down below, on account of er er you understand, sir?" "Oh, quite!" said I, and thereafter thought awhile, and, receiving his ready permission, lighted my cigarette.
This I'll say, I've never heard a man talk about it as you used to in old midshipmite days, whole watches through don't you remember? on the North American station, and in the Black Sea, and the Mediterranean. And that girl at Malta! I wonder what has become of her? What a beauty she was!
Jack made his report, and then went down below, very much pleased at what had passed, especially as he would have another long yarn for the Governor on his return to Malta. In which our hero and Gascoigne ought to be ashamed of themselves, and did feel what might be called midshipmite compunction.
"Rather hot toggery that, my lads, for weather like this." "Well, of all the impudence!" cried the young officer hotly; and he took a step towards where Rodd was standing. Rodd faced slowly round, looked at the boy superciliously, then said as coolly as could be "Hullo, midshipmite! Not gone below?"
"To the best of my remembrance I was disguised as a midshipmite, with white duck trousers of a prodigious width. They used to crackle, I remember. There was room for a dozen pockets." Claire laid her arms on the table, so that her face drew nearer his own. Her voice fell to a stage whisper "Did you ever take something home?" The Captain threw back his head with a peal of laughter.
This I'll say, I've never heard a man talk about it as you used to in old midshipmite days, whole watches through don't you remember? on the North American station, and in the Black Sea, and the Mediterranean. And that girl at Malta! I wonder what has become of her? What a beauty she was!
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