In the morning when he sobered, he had
quite forgotten where the leg was, and how he broke it; he therefore got
Kelson to splice the stump with the but--end of a mop; but in the hurry it
had been left three inches too long, so he had to jerk himself up to the
top of his peg at every step. The Doctor, glad to breathe the fresh air
after the horrible work he had gone through, was leaning over the side
speaking to Kelson. When I fell, he turned round and drew Cookee's fire
on himself. "Doctor, you have not prescribed for me yet."
"No, Caboose, I have not; what is wrong?"
"Wrong, sir? why, I have lost my leg, and the Captain's clerk says I am not
in the Return!--Look here, sir, had Doctor Kelson not coopered me, where
should I have been?--Why, Doctor, had I been looked after, amputation might
have been unnecessary; a fish might have done, whereas I have had to be
spliced."
He was here cut short by the voice of his mate, who had gone forward to
slay a pig for the gunroom mess. "Oh, Lad, oh!--Massa Caboose!--Dem dam
Yankee!--De Purser killed, massa!--Dem shoot him troo de head!--Oh, Lad!"
Captain Deadeye had come on deck. "You John Crow, what is wrong with you?"
"Why, de Purser killed, Captain, dat all."
"Purser killed?--Doctor, is Saveall hurt?"
Treenail could stand it no longer. "No, sir, no; it is one of the gunroom
pigs that we shipped at Halifax three cruises ago; I am sure I don't know
how he survived one, but the seamen took a fancy to him, and nicknamed him
the Purser.
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