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Marryat, Frederick, 1792-1848

"Peter Simple and The Three Cutters, Vol. 1"

One would think you had served all
your time in a cutter, or a ten-gun brig, instead of dashing frigates.
Come, sir, I'll give you one more chance."
I was so hurt at what the captain said, that I could not control my
feelings. I replied, with a quivering lip, "that I had had no time to
order another uniform,"--and I burst into tears.
"Indeed, Burrows, you are rather too harsh," said the third captain;
"the lad is frightened. Let him sit down and compose himself for a
little while. Sit down, Mr Simple, and we will try you again directly."
I sat down, checking my grief and trying to recall my scattered senses.
The captains, in the meantime, turning over the logs to pass away the
time; the one who had questioned me in navigation reading the Plymouth
newspaper, which had a few minutes before been brought on board and sent
into the cabin. "Heh! what's this? I say Burrows--Keats, look here," and
he pointed to a paragraph. "Mr Simple, may I ask whether it was you who
saved the soldier who leaped off the wharf yesterday?"
"Yes, sir," replied I; "and that's the reason why my uniforms are so
shabby. I spoilt them then, and had no time to order others. I did not
like to say why they were spoilt." I saw a change in the countenances of
all the three, and it gave me courage. Indeed, now that my feelings had
found vent, I was no longer under any apprehension.
"Come, Mr Simple, stand up again," said the captain, kindly, "that is,
if you feel sufficiently composed; if not, we will wait a little longer.


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