But Mr. Belton had something else to study besides the boys, and this was the ship. The _Spitfire_ was a fine old-fashioned, tall-masted, big-sparred frigate, which could leg it considerably faster under her great sails than under her small engines. She had the spacious quarters for officers and the roomy airy spaces between decks for the men of the ships of her class, and was altogether a much more comfortable ship for cruising than the modern floating forts that could have blown her out of the water with a single round. Stanch and weatherly, Mr. Belton had but one fault to find with her, and that was her powder-magazine was exactly where it ought not to have been; the breech of one of her guns was directly over the chute by which the ammunition was handed up. Whenever that gun was fired, Mr. Belton would go up to the gun captain and give him a look of warning, and the man would respond to this silent caution by touching his cap. Nevertheless, the Lieutenant said to himself sometimes, "If we finish this cruise without some trouble with the magazine, the _Spitfire_ will deserve her name of a lucky ship."
They had sailed in April, and six very satisfactory weeks had been passed at sea. Homesickness and seasickness had disappeared after the first week, and the whole ship's company from the Captain down--who rejoiced in such a First Lieutenant as Mr. Belton--was happy and satisfied, with the possible exception of Crying Tommy. The master-at-arms never had so little disagreeable work to do, and so he told Mr. Belton one Sunday morning after inspection.
"By-the-way," asked the Lieutenant, "I see that Hopkins boy is doing well. He has never had a report against him. Has he stopped that habit of howling for nothing?"
"Well, sir," replied old Jimmylegs, "he has, partly. The other boys laughed at him, and that done him good. They've caught on to Mary Jane, and they asks him if he has to report to Mary Jane twicet a day when he is ashore, and such like pullin' of his legs as boys delights in. The other day, sir, he got to cryin' about something or 'nother, and they run him too hard. I saw 'em and heard 'em, but they didn't know it. Fust thing Crying Tommy lights out from the shoulder, and laid the biggest of 'em sprawlin', and they shoved off pretty quick, sir. I didn't think as 'twas my duty to report him for fightin', and I 'ain't never had occasion to report him for nothin' else. A better boy nor a smarter at his duty I 'ain't never seen, sir."