as took him east twelve year ago or more? That was afore I got this here
button hook o' mine. Ay, I remember him well, a-trampin' up an' down deck
with his hands in his pockets an' his mouth set tight an' his chin on his
stock, never speakin' to a soul, in the doldrums if ever a lad was. Why,
we all thought there was no more spirit in him than in the old wooden
figurehead--leastways, all but me.

"'I may be wrong,' says I to old Tinsley the bo'sun, 'I may be wrong,'
says I, 'but I be main sure that young sad down-in-the-mouth have got a
blazin' fire somewhere in his innards.'

"Ay, and time showed it. There was a lot of cadets aboard as poked fun at
the quiet chap an' talked him over, a-winkin' their eyes. From talkin' it
got to doin'. One day, goin' to his bunk, he found it all topsyversy,
hair powder on his pillow, dubbin in his shavin' cup, salt pork wropt up
in his dressin' gown. Well, I seed him as he comed on deck, an' his face
were a sight to remember, pale as death, but his eyes a-blazin' like live
coals in the galley fire. Up he steps to the cadet as was ringleader; how
he knowed it I can't tell you, but he was sure of it, same as I always
am.

"'Sir,' says he, quiet as a lamb, 'I want a word with you.'

"'Dear me!' says the cadet, 'have Mr. Clive found his voice at last?'

"'Yes, sir,' says Clive, 'he has, an' something else.'

"Cook happened to be passin' with a tray; a lady what was squeamish had
been having her vittles on deck. Mr. Clive cotched up a basin o' pea soup
what was too greasy for madam, and in a twink he sets it upside down on