I believe Admiral Clark, commander of the Oregon at Santiago, is responsible for the following yarn. It was recalled to me lately by another old “Sea Dog,” and, as there may be some who have not heard it, I venture to offer it:
A good many years ago one of our old sloops of war was heeling to a good breeze the second day out from the Capes of Chesapeake; the afternoon watch had just been piped on deck when the presence of the first lieutenant was requested at the “mast” to settle the cases of two men brought up by the master-at-arms for fighting. One of the men was pretty badly battered, and it was to him the executive officer first turned his attention, somewhat after this fashion:
“Well, my man, what is your name and how did you come by that black eye?”
“My name, sir, is Tom Jones, sir, and I’m a berth-deck cook by ratin’, sir. Bill Trigger here, sir, is the captain of the fo’castle, sir, and him and me is mess mates, sir, and we goes into cahoots for to make a pie, sir, when we gets to sea. I bein’ a cook, sir, agrees to make the pastry, sir, and do the cookin’, while Bill agrees to get the can of peaches off’en the bumboat afore we leaves port, sir. Well sir, he done it and I done it, and comes mess gear, I calls Bill to come and get his share o’ the pie. Well you sec, sir, we be heeled considerable to the breeze, sir, and I has some trouble keepin’ the pans in the galley stove, sir; but I makes the pie, sir, and calls Bill like I said, sir. Bill ’e comes, sir, and I takes my knife and cuts the pie fair down the ’midship line, sir. Well then, sir, I sits down on my mess chest, sir, for to eat my pie, when Bill comes and hits me on the head, sir, and knocks my pie into the waterways, sir.”
“Now Trigger, what have you to say to this?” asked the “first luff.”
Says Trigger: ‘‘Yes, sir, it’s just like Jonesy said, sir; ’ini and me goes into partners, sir, to make a pie when we gets clear o’ the land, sir, and our fresh grub is gone, sir. ’E bein’ a cook, sir, agrees to make the casin’, sir, and do the cookin’, while I takes on to furnish the can o’ peaches, it bein’ a peach pie, sir. Well sir, ’c makes the pie, sir, and calls me down at mess gear to get my ’alf and ’e takes a knife and cuts ’cr fair fore and aft in two as near as may be; the ship bein’ ’ecled over some, sir, just like ’e said, sir, and ’e goes and sits down on ’is mess chest, sir, to eat ’is piece o’ pie, but damn ’is bloody ’eart and eyes, sir, ’e give me the weather side o’ the pie and ’e gets all the peaches, sir, ’cr ballast ’avin' shifted on the galley stove, sir. So I ’ad to ’it ’im, sir.”