at sea was always hard. There are things to ponder and split your head about. Every insignificant word has, so to speak, its separate meaning. For instance—the fore-topman in the shrouds on the top-gallant lashings! What does that mean? A sailor understands! Hee, hee. Now where’s your mathematics!
Newnin: The health of his excellency, Captain Revunov-Karayúlov! (Band plays a flourish. “Hurrah.”)
Yat: Your excellency, you were pleased just now to express yourself on the subject of the hardness of naval service. But tell me if the telegraph’s any easier? Nowadays, your excellency, no one can enter the telegraph service unless he can read and write French and German. But the hardest thing we have to do is the transmission of telegrams. Terribly hard. Please listen a moment. (Raps with a fork on the table, imitating a telegraphic apparatus.)
Revunov-Karayúlov: What’s that?
Yat: That’s for: I esteem you, your excellency, for your virtues. You think it’s easy? And again. (Raps.)
Revunov-Karayúlov: Louder. I can’t hear you.
