The Powder Monkey

"No, sir," said the little boy, shrinking; for the man now took a step forward and clapped a big, brown, tarry hand upon his shoulder.
"Then why can't yer understand yer own lingo?"
"I do, sir," said the boy, with a sound like a sob.
"Then why did you say you didn't, and make me think you was a Frenchy?"
"I didn't know what you meant, sir, by 'hilli' something, and 'what cheer.'"
"Why, yer young savage!" cried the man. "Arn't yer never been to school?"
"Yes, sir, and had a tutor."
"A tutor, eh? What may that be? But lookye here, my lad; I arn't a sir-on'y a marrineer."
"A what, sir?" said the boy, staring.
"Marrineer-seaman. Fore the mast man, ship now lying off the port o' Torquay. Whatcher doing there?"
"Cry-ying, sir," came for answer, with a piteous sob.