"Well, what sort of a boy is he?" asked the Lieutenant.
Jimmylegs tugged at his whiskers harder than ever.
"Well, sir," he said, presently, "the boy ain't no shirk. He's a foretopman, and the captain of the foretop says he's the smartest boy he's got aloft. But he keeps on crying, and I'm mightily afraid he'll start some of the other boys to crying, and they'll think the ship is a penitentiary. Low spirits is ketchin','specially in the foc's'l', and I wish that blessed brat would stop his bawling. I'd like you to speak to him, sir; you've got such a fine way with boys, sir." Which was true enough.
"Send him here," said the Lieutenant, wiping his face after his shave.
Presently there came a timid knock at the door, and Crying Tommy appeared. He was a sandy-haired boy of sixteen, ill-grown for his age, and of a most doleful countenance.
"Well, my lad," said the Lieutenant, cheerily, "I hear that you are always piping your eye. What's that for?"
Crying Tommy shook his head helplessly, but said nothing.
"Yes, sir--never had such good grub in my life before."
"Then what in the name of sense are you always howling for?"
Crying Tommy looked about him more helplessly than ever, and then burst out suddenly and desperately:
"I don't know, sir, except that I've always had--somebody to look out for me. Mary Jane Griggs done that--she's a corker, sir--and she made me go and be a 'prentice--and I didn't want to; she made me go--that she did, sir!"
"I'm not surprised that Mary Jane wanted to get rid of you if this is the way you acted. Now mind; do you stop this boo-hooing, and do your duty _cheerfully_. Do you understand me? For I hear that you do your duty. And if you don't, why"--here the Lieutenant quickly assumed his "quarter-deck" voice and roared out, "_I'll give you something to cry for!_"
Crying Tommy fled down the gangway. Half an hour afterwards the Lieutenant was on the bridge, the anchor was picked up, the _Spitfire_ was spreading her white wings to the freshening breeze. Mr. Belton, watch in hand, was keenly observing the young bluejackets, and when he saw that all plain sail was made within ten minutes, he put his watch back with a feeling of satisfaction. He had sailor-boys to count on, not farmers and haymakers, aloft. Especially had he noticed one boy, who, laying out with cat-like swiftness on the very end of the topsail-yard, did his work with a quickness and steadiness that many an old man-o'-war's man might have envied. When this smart youngster landed on deck Mr. Belton was surprised to see that it was Crying Tommy, looking, as usual when he was not crying, as if he were just ready to begin.