human
A fine fellow is Dick, sir! nodded Peterday, beginning to fill a long clay pipe,
gpt
Lord!--what a sailor he 'd ha' made, to be sure!--failing which he's as fine a soldier as ever was, or will be, with enough war-medals to fill my Sunday hat, sir. When he lost his arm they gave him the V.C., and his discharge, sir,--because why--because a soldier wi' one arm ain't any more good than a sailor wi' one leg, d'ye see. So they tried to discharge Dick, but--Lord love you!--they couldn't, sir,--because why?--because Dick were a soldier bred and born, and is as much a soldier to-day, as ever he was,--ah! and always will be--until he goes marching aloft,--like poor Tom Bowling,--until one as is General of all the armies, and Admiral of all the fleets as ever sailed, shall call the last muster roll, sir. At this present moment, sir, continued the sailor, lighting his pipe with a live coal from the fire,
human
On guard! repeated Bellew,
gpt
I'm afraid I don't understand.
human
Of course you don't, sir, chuckled Peterday,