"Why, you haven't been so bad as my Pan-y-mar was till I cured him."

"Did you cure him?" said Syd, beginning to take more interest in the
bo'sun's words.

"Ay, my lad, in quarter of an hour."

"Do you think you could cure me, Barney? I don't want to die just yet."

"On'y hark at him."

"But do you think you could cure me?"

"Course I could, my lad; but I mustn't. You've get the doctor to see
you. Don't he do you no good?"

"No, Barney; he only laughed at me--like you did."

"'Nough to make him, lad. You're not bad."

"I tell you I am," cried Syd, angrily. "What did you give Pan?"

"I didn't give him nothin', sir. I only showed him a rope's-end, and I
says to him, `Now look ye here, Pan-y-mar,' I says, `if you aren't
dressed and up and doing in quarter hour, here's your dose.'"

"Oh!" moaned Syd.

"And he never wanted to take it, Master Syd, for he was up on deck 'fore
I said, and he haven't been bad since."

"How could you be such a brute, Barney?"

"Brute, lad? Why, it was a kindness. If I might serve you the same--"

"It would kill me," said Syd, angrily; and somehow his voice grew
stronger.

"Kill yer! You'd take a deal more killing than you think for."

"No, I shouldn't. I'm nearly dead now."

"Nay, lad; you're as lively as a heel in fresh water. Capen sent me
down to see how you was."

"He hasn't been to see me, Barney."

"Course he arn't, lad. Had enough to do looking arter the ship, for
we've had a reg'lar snorer these last few days. Don't know when I've
seen a rougher sea. Been quite a treat to a man who has been ashore so
long. See how the frigate behaved?"

"Did she, Barney?"

"Loverly. There, get up; and I'll go and tell the skipper you're all
right again."

"But I tell you I'm not. I'm very, very bad."

"Not you, Master Syd."

"I am, I tell you."

"Not you, lad. Nothing the matter with you;" and Barney winked to
himself.

"Look here," cried Syd, passionately, as he jumped up in his hammock,
"you're a stupid, obstinate old fool, so be off with you."

"And you're a midshipman, that's what you are, Master Syd, as thinks
he's got the mumble-dumbles horrid bad, when it's fancy all the time."

"Do you want me to hit you, Barney?" cried Syd, angrily.

"Hit me? I should like you to do it, sir. Do you know I'm bo'sun of
this here ship?"

"I don't care what you are," cried Syd. "You're an unfeeling brute. An
ugly old idiot, that's what you are."

"O