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It should be called `My-deary, not `Madeir-ah. Hang it all, Stormcock, stow that!" "Don't apologise," said the master's mate, who just at that instant had thrown a biscuit at Larkyns, causing the violent interjection which he interpolated in his story. "I thought I would supply the proper accentuation for you, that's all."
"Oh, yes," put in Mr Stormcock, satirically "I recollect it all quite well. Heave ahead, my hearty!" The assistant-paymaster, however, took no notice whatever of the interruption, pursuing the even tenor of his narrative.
We've lost Bitpin and Stormcock and Morgan and that poor lad Jackson amongst the officers killed, besides those wounded, and I can't say yet how many men, but between thirty and forty, I fear!"
"I want to try and make it out by myself, so that I shall know how to do it next time." "Bravo, youngster," put in Mr Stormcock. "That's the only way to become a good navigator. Fudging your reckoning will never teach you how to work out your altitudes; you stick to it, my boy, and do it on your own hook."
"Indeed!" said Mr Stormcock, with a whistle of surprise at this extraordinary assertion. "How do you make that out?" "Because he sent Jack Vernon in the first cutter in my place." "Oh, you ass! It was for that, then, that you were fighting this poor chap here, who I'm sure you ought to be grateful to for taking a very nasty job off your hands.
He did not have the heart to take another rise out of the irascible caterer, Mr Stormcock; while, as for Plumper, the senior mate, I never saw a chap eat in my life as he did.
"I don't see how that information can be of any use to his friends, Stormcock," said Mr Fortescue Jones, with a coarse laugh. "We can't very well put up a tombstone over him in the Bay of Biscay." "For shame, sir!" exclaimed little Tom Mills, who was huddled up crying in a corner of the gunroom, Dick Popplethorne having been an old home friend. "Don't make fun of the po-poor fellow now he's dead!"
This young gentleman, all in his glory, was lording it over poor Dobb's, the long-suffering steward, at a fine rate, I noticed, making Mr Stormcock waxy with his remarks about the fare. This, really, was not at all bad in quality nor scanty in quantity, as the irate master's mate asseverated with considerable heat.
I hardly knew what occurred after that, I was so saddened by the loss of Mr Stormcock, whom I had always found a very good friend to me, for he had taught me a good deal; and, notwithstanding that I had not taken to him at first, I had since learnt to have a most sincere regard for him, while he on his part, though so much older than myself, liked me, I believe, for he appeared fond of being in my company.
Mr Stormcock pitched another biscuit immediately at Larkyns, crying out at the same time "That's for your bad pun!" The wag, however, dodged it and proceeded with his yarn.
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