Try a cigar and then tell me, personally, what's worrying you.

Then perhaps it won't be altogether needful to make an official report." "I never was able to take you--er--somewhat jovial views of an officer's duty, Stearns," sighed Lieutenant Willow.
Nevertheless, he selected a cigar, bit off the end, lighted it and took a few whiffs, Lieutenant-Commander Stearns all the while regarding his comrade in arms with twinkling eyes.
"Now, fire ahead, Willow," urged the officer in charge, "but please don't make your communication an official one--not at first.

Fire ahead, now, Willow." "Well--er--just between ourselves," continued Lieutenant Willow slowly, "there has been a fight to-night between two midshipmen." "No!" Lieutenant-Commander Stearns struck his fist rather heavily against the desk.
"A fight--a real fight--with fists ?" continued the officer in charge, in a tone of mock incredulity.

"No, no, no, Willow, you don't mean it--you can't mean it!" "Yes, I do," rejoined the junior officer rather stiffly.
"Oh, dear, what is the service coming to ?" gasped Stearns ironically.
"Why, Willow, we never heard of such things when we were midshipmen here.

Now, did we ?" "I'm afraid we did--sometimes," admitted the junior officer.