The Three Cutters | Page 8

clean in consequence."
"That's odd, isn't it?--and the more so, because he has had such great
people down here, and has been giving large parties every day."
"And yet I made three seizures, besides sweeping up those thirty-seven
tubs."
"I swept them up," observed Smith.
"That's all the same thing, younker. When you've been a little longer in
the service, you'll find out that the commanding officer has the merit of
all that is done; but you're green yet. Let me see, where was I? Oh!--It
was about ninety-three or ninety-four, as I said. At that time I was in
the Channel fleet--Tomkins, I'll trouble you for the hot water; this
water's cold. Mr Smith, do me the favour to ring the bell.--Jem, some
more hot water."
"Please, sir," said Jem, who was bare-footed as well as bare-headed,
touching his lock of hair on his forehead, "the cook had capsized the
kettle--but he has put more on."
"Capsized the kettle! Hah!--very well--we'll talk about that to-morrow.
Mr Tomkins, do me the favour to put him in the report: I may forget it.

And pray, sir, how long is it since he has put more on?"
"Just this moment, sir, as I came aft."
"Very well, we'll see to that to-morrow. You bring the kettle aft as soon
as it is ready. I say, Mr Jem, is that fellow sober?"
"Yees, sir, he be sober as you be."
"It's quite astonishing what a propensity the common sailors have to
liquor. Forty odd years have I been in the service, and I've never found
any difference. I only wish I had a guinea for every time that I have
given a fellow seven-water grog during my servitude as first-lieutenant,
I wouldn't call the king my cousin. Well, if there's no hot water, we
must take lukewarm; it won't do to heave-to. By the Lord Harry! Who
would have thought it?--I'm at number sixteen! Let me count,
yes!--surely I must have made a mistake. A fact, by Heaven!"
continued Mr Appleboy, throwing the chalk down on the table. "Only
one more glass, after this; that is, if I have counted right--I may have
seen double."
"Yes," drawled Smith.
"Well, never mind. Let's go on with my story. It was either in the year
ninety-three or ninety-four that I was in the Channel fleet: we were then
abreast of Torbay--"
"Here be the hot water, sir," cried Jem, putting the kettle down on the
deck.
"Very well, boy. By-the-bye, has the jar of butter come on board?"
"Yes, but it broke all down the middle. I tied him up with a ropeyarn."
"Who broke it, sir?"
"Coxswain says as how he didn't."
"But who did, sir."

"Coxswain handed it up to Bill Jones, and he says as how he didn't."
"But who did, sir."
"Bill Jones gave it to me, and I'm sure as how I didn't."
"Then who did, sir, I ask you."
"I think it be Bill Jones, sir, 'cause he's fond of butter, I know, and there
be very little left in the jar."
"Very well, we'll see to that to-morrow morning. Mr Tomkins, you'll
oblige me by putting the butter-jar down in the report, in case it should
slip my memory. Bill Jones, indeed, looks as if butter wouldn't melt in
his mouth. Never mind. Well, it was, as I said before--it was in the year
ninety-three or ninety-four, when I was in the Channel fleet; we were
then off Torbay, and had just taken two reefs in the top-sails.
Stop--before I go on with my story, I'll take my last glass; I think it's
the last--let me count. Yes, by heavens! I make out sixteen, all told.
Never mind, it shall be a stiff one. Boy, bring the kettle, and mind you
don't pour the hot water into my shoes, as you did the other night.
There, that will do. Now, Tomkins, fill up yours; and you, Mr Smith.
Let us all start fair, and then you shall have my story--and a very
curious one it is, I can tell you, I wouldn't have believed it myself, if I
hadn't seen it. Hilloa! What's this? Confound it! What's the matter with
the toddy? Heh, Mr Tomkins?"
Mr Tomkins tasted; but, like the lieutenant, he had made it very stiff;
and, as he had also taken largely before, he was, like him, not quite so
clear in his discrimination. "It has a queer twang, sir: Smith, what is
it?"
Smith took up his glass, tasted the contents.
"Salt-water," drawled the midshipman.
"Salt-water! So it is by heavens!" cried Mr Appleboy.

"Salt as Lot's wife! By all that's infamous!" cried the master's mate.
"Salt-water, sir!" cried Jem in a fright, expecting a salt eel for supper.
"Yes, sir," replied Mr Appleboy, tossing the contents