My
head was shaved, all the skin came off my face like a mask, as well as
off my back and shoulders. We were put into baths of brandy and water,
and in three weeks were all recovered.
"That was but an unlucky schooner from beginning to end," observed
O'Brien, after I had narrated the events of my cruise. "We had a bad
beginning with her, and we had a bad ending. She's gone to the bottom,
and the devil go with her; however, all's well that ends well, and,
Peter, you're worth a dozen dead men yet; but you occasion me a great
deal of trouble and anxiety, that's the truth of it, and I doubt if I
shall ever rear you, after all."
I returned to my duty on board of the brig, which was now nearly ready
for sea. One morning O'Brien came on board and said, "Peter, I've a
piece of news for you. Our gunner is appointed to the _Araxes_, and the
admiral has given me a gunner's warrant for old Swinburne. Send for him
on deck."
Swinburne was summoned, and came rolling up the hatchway. "Swinburne,"
said O'Brien, "you have done your duty well, and you are now gunner of
the _Rattlesnake_. Here is your warrant, and I've great pleasure in
getting it for you."
Swinburne turned the quid in his cheek, and then replied, "May I be so
bold as to ax, Captain O'Brien, whether I must wear one of them long
tog, swallow-tailed coats--because, if so, I'd prefer being a
quarter-master?"
"A gunner may wear a jacket, Swinburne, if he likes; when you go on
shore you may bend the swallow-tail, if you please.
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