Profession for gentlemen's sons, is it?
I call it a mockery!" "Oh, don't be so snaggy, Smithums," I said banteringly; "wait till his poor old wing's all right again, and he shall go a shooting too." That was too much.

He made a rush at me, but Barkins flung an arm round his waist, and as they struggled together I dodged to the other side of the table and escaped from the cabin, but popped my head in again.
"Don't hit him, Tanner," I cried; "he ain't got no friends.

Good-bye, old chap, I wish you were coming too." Our eyes met, and I suppose my tone and the look I gave him seemed sincere, for, as he held Smith, his arms tightly round him from behind, and his chin resting upon our messmate's shoulder, he gave me a friendly nod.
"All right, old chap," he said; "I hope you'll enjoy yourself." "And I hope the John Teapots 'll get hold of you, you miserable little cad!" cried Smith.

"I shan't be there to help you this time." I burst out laughing and ran on deck, to find the men mustered ready, and Mr Brooke standing there in sun helmet and gaiters, looking as unlike a naval officer as he could be.
"Oh, there you are, Herrick," he said, giving me a look over.

"Yes, that will do." "But the men," I whispered.