Can you make out what he says?
That would be more to the purpose." Again the unearthly bellow came floating over the water, happily deadened by the wind, which was roaring a thousand feet over head.

"CAN you make out anything, Mr.Vang ?" said the Captain.
"I make out 'pork-chops!' sir," said the midshipman.
"Take one of the boats on board, Mr.Vang.My compliments, and will be much obliged if he will come ashore immediately! On important business, say.

Tell him the convicts have landed; will you?
Also, tell the lieutenant of the watch that I want either Mr.Tacks, or Mr.Sheets: either will do." The boat was soon seen coming back with the Colonial Secretary in a statesman-like attitude in the stern sheets, and beside him that important officer Mr.Tacks, a wee little dot of a naval cadet, apparently about ten years old.
"What were you bellowing about pork-chops, Pollifex ?" asked the Captain, the moment the boat touched the shore.
"A failure, sir," said the Colonial Secretary; "burnt, sir; disgracefully burnt up to a cinder, sir.

I have been consulting the honourable member for the Cross-jack-yard (I allude to Mr.Tack's N.C., my honourable friend, if he will allow me to call him so) as to the propriety of calling a court-martial on the cook's mate.

He informs me that such a course is not usual in naval jurisprudence.