For my part, such a restlessness possessed me that, after trying to woo slumber for a half hour, I left my place and crawled over nearer the open port.
"Hello, Russ," whispered a voice, apparently from the outside.

"Just lean out here if you want to cool off.

Isn't the night air fine ?" A small figure wriggled in from where it had been hanging over the port sill, and in the faint light I recognized "Kid," as we called him, the smallest boy on board, and so pleasant and popular that we had unanimously elected him the mascot of the ship.
I was glad to see that it was "Kid." His fund of ready wit and his never-failing good-nature made him a welcome companion at all times.

He did not belong to my gun, being a "powder monkey" on No.

16, a six-pounder on the spar deck, but "Kid" was privileged, and he could have penetrated to the captain's cabin with impunity.
"Thought I'd drop down here for a rest," he began, stretching himself and yawning.