My number being 2799, through some occult system of nautical numeration, I was detailed to the 'Third,' or second starboard, division of the ship's company; so I joined mess Number 38, which was on the port side on the lower deck, the first one aft of the schoolroom.

I also proceeded a day or two after, being thenceforth regarded as a neophyte no longer, to take part in all the regular drills of the ship, and one morning, subsequent to breakfast, underwent that rudimentary stage of seamanship styled 'boxing the compass'—though I might have really told the painstaking instructor, who painfully and ploddingly laboured to instil the cardinal points into my head as if I were an ignoramus, that I not only knew the 'lubber's point' probably as well as he did, but could, on a pinch, have conned the ship in and out of Portsmouth Harbour!

This 'boxing the compass' business, though, brought me to loggerheads with that brute 'Ugly' somehow or other, strangely enough.

I don't know how it was, but from the moment, I believe, I first cast eyes on his singularly unprepossessing face, Moses Reeks had been my special antipathy!

It was not so much that he said anything to me or of me, as from the fact of his always 'putting it on' poor Mick Donovan, for whom I entertained as great a liking as I disliked the other.

'Ugly' was always snarling at my chum, and ever giving him a chance kick or blow, should he be able to do so unobserved and without being directly taxed with it; though, of course, he would deny it if observed by any of the other boys, being an unmitigated liar, in addition to having a sour and vindictive disposition.

That very morning I noticed him deliberately stamp on poor Mick's bare toes with all the weight of his big heavy foot, as we were coming down the hatchway from early 'divisions'; and when I spoke to him about it he said coldly he "hadn't done nuthin' of the sort!"

I knew this was an untruth; but I bided my time, judiciously watching for an opportunity to pay him out.

This came sooner than I expected; for during our compass lesson I managed to get him into a fog about the points which the instructor was explaining, drawing down on my joker the wrath and outspoken opprobrium of that officer.

'Ugly' noted this, and in his turn bided his time.

The watch was dismissed, and the 'stand by' had been bugled before quarters, preparatory to our being dispersed for dinner; when 'Ugly' nudged me as we passed up the hatchway together, coming much closer to me than I liked, the very touch of the unclean brute being obnoxious to me.

"Wot d'yer mean by comin' the barney over me and a-makin' that codger of a kinstructor bullyrag me afore all the t'other chaps fur?"

"What do you mean, Reeks?" said I, in reply to this, returning his nudge with a good dig from the bony knob of my elbow in his ribs, and knocking the wind pretty well-nigh out of him. "You jumped on poor Mick Donovan's bare foot this morning, and now you try to shove me!"

"Oh!" he exclaimed, as we emerged on the upper deck, where our division had by now already partly assembled on the starboard side, forward; "that be it, mister?"

"Yes," said I, as I slipped into my place near Mick, "that's it!"

After 'divisions,' when the other boys were rushing down below to their messes to dinner, the bugle-call for which was braying out its cheerful sounds, I stopped behind on the upper deck, as did "Ugly."

"Sure an' what are ye stoppin' fur, Tom, mabouchal?" said Mick to me in surprise. "Begorrah, I can smill the mate alriddy, an', faith, the praties, too! I can say their smilin' faces bickonin' to me an' sayin', 'Coom an' ate me!'"

"I'm not coming yet," I replied, in a more serious tone than Mick evidently expected. "I've got some business with this chap here."

'Ugly' overheard me, as I intended he should.

"Hay," said he, "did yer speak to Oi?"

"Hay is meant for horses and asses," I answered drily, with a grin; "and if you be one of them latter, as I think, and so does Mick here I know, why, I did refer to you!"

"Want ter fight?"

"Yes," I said, launching out my fist straight towards his bullet head and giving him a cropper on the mouth that sent him tumbling backwards on the deck, all of a heap; "I do."

'Ugly' rose slowly to his feet, his face streaming with blood; and he was just about making a rush at me like a mad bull at a gate, while I put myself in a posture of defence in proper pugilistic fashion, when an interruption, though but of a temporary character, came to these proceedings.

The ubiquitous Larrikins was the intervener.

"Lor', you be green 'uns!" he cried, sinking his voice to a cautious pitch. "Don't you fight here; why, the 'crushers' will nab yer afore yer can strike a blow comfortably! If fight yer must, coom up here on the fo'c's'le, and then you can fight away theer to yer 'art's content, without nobody not a-hinterfeerin' with yer!"



CHAPTER SIX.

A KNOTTY POINT!

I led the way towards the forecastle of the old ship, where the high bulwarks, I saw, would screen us well from observation; although the place, of course, was on the open deck, and visible from aloft, had anybody been there on the look-out, anxious to take a peep at us.

In the old days, indeed, had this rencontre between 'Ugly' and me then took place, we might have fought in an enclosed arena; for the Saint Vincent, I have been told, when she was first built, was fitted with a poop and topgallant-forecastle, and went to sea with them, but Admiral Sir Charles Napier, who was then commodore of the Channel Squadron, and hoisted his broad pennant in her, found the ship so top-heavy when under his command that he reported her to be unseaworthy on his return to Spithead with the fleet, the result of which was that she lost her poop and topgallant-forecastle; hence 'Ugly' and I had now to fight under the eye of the circling seagulls, always on the wing, screeching round the old training-ship in their plaintive fashion, and diving ever and anon into the tideway to pick up scraps that were chucked overboard by our comrades, more sensible than us, down below at their dinners!

The deck was quite clear, the only person visible being the captain of the afterguard, who was taking a snooze on a pile of canvas and old sails that were stowed in a heap close by the main bitts; so, acting under the chaperonage of Larrikins, who officiated as bottle-holder, 'Ugly' and I stood up, facing each other with our fists doubled, ready for action, in a nice little open space that seemed to have been left especially for the purpose between the heel of the bowsprit and the knight-heads.

One of the other first-class boys had stopped up to see the fun in addition to Larrikins, and he now offered himself as second to 'Ugly,' while Mick, of course, he being really the main cause of the quarrel, naturally came forward as mine.

"Now, gents," cried Larrikins, seeing my antagonist and myself were duly prepared, "yer can bergin the puffomince as soon as yer likes!"

Before waiting even for this mandate, 'Ugly' made that mad-bull rush at me which he had contemplated in the first instance at the commencement of hostilities; but having had some considerable previous experience in the use of those weapons of attack and defence alike, with which a beneficent nature has so thoughtfully provided menfolk, from many a rough and tumble fight on Common Hard with the mudlarks and other idle scamps frequenting that place, who used to be always playing pranks with father's wherry, trying to steal anything they could lay hold of, should we leave her for a minute alone, I had no difficulty in avoiding the onslaught of my opponent.

I kept my right hand well up on guard, across my chest; and, my left fist being extended, I caught my gentleman a pretty tidy blow under the chin that floored him as quickly as before.

"Bedad, Tom, ye had him there!" cried Mick, dancing round me in ecstasy, while 'Ugly's' second was picking him up. "Jist giv' him a onener in his bread-basket, me jewel, an' ye'll finish him!"

This was not so easy a matter, however, as my chum supposed; Moses Reeks being of that bulldog nature, as his looks testified, that would not give in until thoroughly licked.

"Steady there," cautioned his second, trying his best to prevent him from continuing his foolish mode of plunging attack; but the pig-headed chap would persist in continually rushing in on my guard, and getting knocked down as regularly, time after time, without his having a chance of landing a blow at me, his fists ever whirling about aimlessly, and being easily avoided by myself. "Keep yer bloomin' dukes out straight in front of yer, silly! 'It 'im in the heye, I tell yer! Wy, yer lettin' 'im 'ave hit hall 'is own way!"

"Blatheration!" cried Mick, my champion, quite as energetically, in counter encouragement to me. "Go for him, Tom; go straight for him agin! Faith, me jewel, you'll lave him soon so as how his blessed own mother, bad cess to her, wouldn't know him, sure as me name now's Mick Donovan!"

Urged on in this fashion on either side, we went at it hammer and tongs, 'Ugly' getting more cautious from his repeated familiarity with the deck planking, and fighting more scientifically after the first two or three rounds.

The consequence of this was that he got in one or two nasty blows with his sledge-hammer fists on the side of my head, which made my ears ache, besides giving me a fine black eye on the port side.

He could not manage to land me a facer, however, straight out, try all that he could; and presently, on my feeling particularly 'riled' by a backhanded clout he succeeded in landing on my cheek, I drew out my left, and, driving it home forwards with all my strength, let him have it straight on the nose.

"Faith, ye tapped his claret for him that time, mabouchal; it's stramin' out all over the dick."

Hardly had my chum made this observation, so highly expressive of his unconcealed delight, ere 'Ugly,' wiping away the blood from his face with the sleeve of his jumper, and clutching hold of the lanyard round his neck, to the end of which his knife was attached, made a spring at me from the knee of his second, where he had sat dazed for half a moment, giving vent to a cry that was more like the howl of a wild animal than anything else.

I put up my hands mechanically, though I had hardly then imagined he would have come so soon at me again; intending, however, more to guard his attack than hit him any blow, for I really thought he had received quite enough punishment already.

But he beat down my guard as easily as if my arms really had been made of pipeclay, and then I felt a stinging sensation through one of these and my left side, just as if I had run foul of a jelly-fish when swimming off the 'Hot Walls,' as I have done sometimes when bathing.

"Begorrah, the thafe's stabbed ye!" exclaimed Mick, putting his arms round me as I fell back. "Whare now is ye hoort, Tom, alannah?"

"Oh, it's nothing," I said with a laugh, as soon as I got back my breath, which had been knocked out of me by the rush 'Ugly' made, the knife having only grazed my ribs, while it had given an ugly gash to my arm; though, probably, had I not guarded the blow, the sharp weapon with which my antagonist had only been supplied, like the rest of us, that very morning, would as likely as not have 'settled my hash,' as father used to say. "Pray don't make a fuss of it, Mick, or any of you fellows. It will all rub off when it's dry!"

Larrikins and the other first-class boy had meanwhile collared 'Ugly' and taken the knife from him, to prevent his doing any further mischief with it; and, as fighting was prohibited on board, and they might possibly have been brought up on the quarter-deck as accomplices, should the affair get wind and come to the notice of the ship's police, the two, who no doubt were old and tried hands at the game, thought it best to take my advice and 'keep the matter dark,' as they said.

"I doesn't like that yere knifin', though," said Master Larrikins, when Mick had bound up my arm with his handkerchief, taking it off his neck for the purpose; and we had all turned to sneak below out of observation before 'quarters' should be sounded and the fellows come tumbling up from dinner, 'Ugly' concealing his battered face by dragging down his cap over his eyes, and pulling up his collar as if he had toothache, which no doubt was not very far from the truth. "Don't yer try on that yere bloomin' game agin, you Reeks, I tell yer, my joker, or else yer 'ad better git yer coffin ready afore yer comes aboard this ship. Lor'! W'y, if the 'Jaunty' or 'Jimmy the One' knowed it, yer'd be strung up at the yard-arm this very minnit!"

The incident, however, passed off without notice from the authorities; although the news of our encounter, with its almost tragic finale, got about amongst the boys, most of the well-conducted of whom gave 'Ugly' a wide berth in consequence, the poor beggar being shunned thenceforth by all but the ne'er-do-wells of the ship, that is, until the circumstance became gradually buried in the past through the pressure of more prominent events.

We managed, combatants and seconds alike, not forgetting the director- in-chief of the fight, Master Larrikins, to reach the sanctuary of the lower deck unseen by any of the ship's corporals, or 'crushers,' as Larrikins facetiously called them.

Not only this; through that wily individual's artful manoeuvring and pathetic appeal to the gods of the cook's galley, we also contrived to get some dinner, which, indeed, was particularly grateful to all of us after our exertions.

The meal this day, being a Wednesday, consisted, for a change, of salt pork and pea-soup; 'pea doo and bolliky,' as it is styled in Saint Vincent slang.

"Faith, it smills good," exclaimed Mick, with a loud and prolonged sniff of enjoyment, on the friendly Larrikins anon placing a bowl of the steaming compound under his nose on the mess-table. "A'most as good as tay, begorrah!"

"Ga-a!" cried our caterer. "Only a Paddy wud say that!"

"Bedad, I don't say much differ," said Mick, after quickly gulping down the contents of his bowl with great gusto and much apparent inward satisfaction. "Pay-soup an' tay soup—sure, they bees as loike as two pays!" This certainly seemed a very logical deduction; but, before we could argue the point out, or indeed laugh at Mick's Irish way of putting it, the bugle sounded again for 'divisions.'

As we all scrambled up the after-hatch, the ship's corporal, Brown, who had helped me to sling my hammock again after I had been cut down the first night I was on board, a very decent man altogether, stopped 'Ugly,' who was on his way up ahead of me.

"Hallo!" he said. "What's the matter with your face, boy?"

"I dunno," replied my late antagonist, trying vainly to hide the effects of my fists with the sleeve of his blue jumper. "S'pose I run agin summat a-comin' downstairs jest now!"

The sun, though, streaming down through the open hatchway, handicapped all the yokel's attempts of concealment; and Mr Brown looked at him with a quizzical expression on his face and a comical twinkle in his eye that spoke a volume without words!

"It strikes me, young man," he said, with his broad good-humoured grin, "that theer 'summat' you knocked against must have been moving round you pretty smart! Bless me, if it ain't fetched you one on your booby hatch and another on the conk, and bottled up your peepers as well! What's your name, boy?"

"Mo—ses," drawled out 'Ugly' slowly, the poor beggar having a difficulty in speaking, caused by the blow I first gave him on the mouth, which accentuated his provincial pronunciation, "Re—eeks, zur."

"Oh!" ejaculated ship's corporal Brown. "Then, Mr Moses Reeks, you'd better go to the sick-bay and see the doctor."

'Ugly' backed down the hatchway to comply with this order, as we were just then ascending from the middle deck; and, from his withdrawing his intervening figure, I became disclosed to view.

My arm, which had swollen up, and necessitated my putting it in a sling, at once attracted the observation of the corporal.

"I say, youngster," he said, arresting my footsteps in like fashion, "why are you bandaged up? What the—ah, what does this hanky-panky mean?"

"I—I—I," I stammered, not knowing what to reply to this, as I did not like to tell him a barefaced lie in cold blood offhand— "I've hurt my arm, sir."

"A-ah!" breathed out Mr Brown significantly; adding, after a pause, "You're Tom Bowling, ain't you?"

"Yes, sir," I said; "that's my name."

"Well, it strikes me, Thomas Bowling," said he drily, in the chaffy sort of way he adopted sometimes when hauling any of us 'over the coals' for some offence, performing his duty ever of guardian of the peace as lightly as he could make it, "there's some sort o' circumbendibus between this here arm of yourn and the spoilt face of that there joker I've jist sent to the sick-bay. Thomas Bowling, Esquire, I fancy you'd better foller him there, my boy."

Of course, I obeyed this command, a ship corporal's word, whether jocular or not, being as good as an order and regarded as law on board the training-ship.

Nothing was said, though, to either of us regarding our recent fight, nor any embarrassing questions asked, when we reached the sick-bay. Trimmens, the sick-berth steward, on the contrary, never moved a muscle of his mahogany face when 'Ugly' said that he had knocked his head against the hatchway, and I told a 'banger' by volunteering the statement that I had broken a plate on the mess-table, and one of the pieces had run into my arm. The wound in my side, which was really only a scratch, I never mentioned to any one, not even to Mick, who thought, and to this day knows nothing to the contrary, I believe, that I had guarded off 'Ugly's' thrust, and had been only stabbed in the arm.

Our injuries not being sufficiently serious to put either of us in the sick-list, 'Ugly' and I were sent back, after being lotioned and 'dressed' by Trimmens, to rejoin our division, then at their 'instruction drill' on the lower deck, and engaged making what are known to those learned in the arts of the sea as 'bends and hitches.'

To explain these properly to a landsman, I would say, for the sake of easier comprehension, that the theory of a 'bend' is based on the good- natured truism contained in the old adage, 'One good turn deserves another'; while a second proverb, 'Safe bind, safe find,' will equally justify the existence of the 'hitch'; but if the inquirer be not satisfied with either of these definitions or explanations, whichever term he may choose to apply to them, I can only advise him to follow Captain Cuttle's injunction and 'overhaul his Church catechism.'

To drop joking, all of us new hands were taught our work as well as sailors could teach us, which was so effectually done that what we once learnt we never forgot; this work being to treat ropes and rigging as if they were reasoning and responsible beings, and to be capable of making fast or letting loose, whensoever it so pleased us, anything under the sun, from knotting a reef point to parbuckling a cask—a dodge by which, I believe, Admiral Rodney, or Abercromby, or some other hero, during the times of the wars, contrived to drag one of his ship's guns to the top of a lofty mountain guarding the entrance to Castries, the harbour of Saint Lucia, which was by this means captured from its French possessors, and is now numbered with the rest of our West Indian colonies.

This, however, is a 'knotty' point.



CHAPTER SEVEN.

I 'GO ALOFT,' LIKE MY ANCESTOR!

"Tom," said Mick to me, on my telling him this, when we were dismissed anon from instruction drill and were going up on the upper deck during the 'break-off,' for a brief breath of fresh air before proceeding below again to our tea, "wer that theer yarn thrue, sure, ye wos afther tellin' me?"

He spoke earnestly, and I replied to him in the same tone. "It's true enough, Mick, that one of our officers did manage to parbuckle a gun up to the top of a high rock, or, rather, mountain, which commanded the land defences of Castries, the principal town of Saint Lucia in the West Indies! I've heard father speak about it many a time," said I. "But, 'pon my word, Mick, I can't precisely recollect if it was the gallant Rodney or Sir Ralph Abercromby; for both of 'em were busy in those parts at the time, and pretty well made their mark too! All I can say is, though, that through this dodge they took the Frenchies unawares and gave them a dressing as British sailors have always done when we've been at loggerheads with them furrin chaps!"

Mick Donovan scratched his head, in the same solemn way father used to do, as if trying to rub in this valuable piece of historical information.

"Faith," said he, "I can't underconstubble it at all, at all!"

There our conversation came to an abrupt close; the bugle summoning us to supper, and Mick being extremely particular, I found, never to be late at meal-times if he could possibly help it!

The next morning, after the usual routine of lashing up and stowing our hammocks in the nettings, on the completion of our breakfast, it was the turn of the second division of the starboard watch, to which we belonged, as I have already detailed, to go to school in the big room on the lower deck aft, where we had passed our original initiatory examination before signing our papers.

The boys were given very fair play in respect of their nautical education, taking each department of their instruction turn and turn about in regular order.

For instance, if the port watch attended school from Three Bells to Seven Bells in the forenoon—that is, in shore time, from half-past nine to half-past eleven o'clock in the morning—the starboard watch would be engaged in seamanship or gunnery instruction; while, in the afternoon their respective avocations would be reversed, the 'starbowlines' going to their books, and the port watch occupying themselves with the other drills.

This day, as I have said, we went to school after inspection and prayers by the chaplain on the upper deck, which, I should have mentioned, was the usual routine every morning when breakfast was finished and the mess-tables and decks below swept clean and made tidy.

I remember one of the schoolmasters impressed me very much during a geography lesson, by showing us on the globe how extensive our national possessions were, and how it became us as British sailors to maintain our rights on every land and sea where the Union Jack of Old England had ever once floated.

I declare I can recollect his very words.

"The sun, my boys," he said very impressively, "never sets on Her Majesty's dominions!"

When school was over, and the bugle, that ever-sounding bugle, rang out the call for 'divisions' presently, we all bustled up, of course, to the upper deck, and, whether it was from the schoolmaster's observation or what, I'm sure I can't say, I was struck by the wonderful lot of fine fellows we had on board the training-ship: all wearing the same smart bluejacket uniform, men and boys alike, and all ready, I believe, even us youngsters who had but just joined the service, to go anywhere and do anything for the sake of the Queen—God bless her!—aye, and to battle likewise for the old flag and the old country that has had the command of the seas for a thousand years—so father says!

Why, there were over a hundred and eighty officers and men, besides some seven hundred odd boys present at muster.

Just fancy!

Yes; and though the men serve all the time of the ordinary three years' commission of the ship, the boys are ever coming and going, forty-five or thereabouts, all fresh ones, being entered every month on the books; while as many, probably, are drafted during the same interim to the guardship, for service with the fleet in all parts of the world!

Bear in mind, too, that the Saint Vincent is only one of some six or seven regular training-ships stationed at the principal ports round the kingdom, for the especial purpose of licking boys into shape for Her Majesty's Service; and that these aspirants for naval fame and glory number altogether ten thousand, such being really the quota of young boy-sailors provided for in the Admiralty estimates and added to the Navy every year.

Thinking thus, I rather lagged behind my comrades in going up the hatchway, only just succeeding in the nick of time in getting into my proper place forward on the starboard side of the ship as befitted my station; and where, being ahead of the line, I had a good view, while the inspection lasted, of the scene of my fight with 'Ugly.'

The boys were all drawn up in two long double rows facing each other, the ranks stretching away from where Mick and I stood near the knight- heads, to right abaft the mainmast; the first and third divisions, which together comprised the starboard watch, being on the right-hand side of the deck looking towards the bows, while the port watch was on the left, of equal strength and similarly stretched out—the watch stripes on the right or left arm, as the case might be, telling any chap who might chance to lose his latitude to which side he properly belonged.

I had already, of course, seen the imposing display which this muster of the boys on the upper deck invariably presented; but never before had I taken such stock of its various details.

However, before I could come to any conclusion in the matter, revolving, as I did, more things than I have yet spoken of in my busy brain, which seemed 'all wool-gathered' this morning, as father would have said had he been there and seen me star-gazing all round the compass, the boy- bugler on the bridge, who "had a purty foine chake of his own," as Mick observed to me on noticing his puffed-out mouth, blew a resonant blast.

It was the 'disperse.'

Hi, presto!

As if by magic, the imposing array of 'sucking bluejackets' whom I had just been gazing upon with a sort of personal admiration from the fact of my being one of their number, an admiration which was tempered by a slight feeling of awe of the discipline that controlled them, melted away almost noiselessly, like those Arabs who 'folded their tents' according to the poem, the boys being all in their bare feet, and their patter along the deck and down the hatchways not making any sound above a faint shuffling; and soon this was drowned by the eldritch screeching of our friends the seagulls circling round on the wing in their wonted manner, and poising themselves anon in mid-air above the ship, looking down to see whether it was dinner-time yet aboard, and there was a chance of any stray scraps being chucked over the side from the 'gashing-tub,' or waste butt in which the refuse of our meals was thrown on the lower deck.

The new boys of both watches were told to stand by, by one of the seaman-instructors; and so, instead of racing down below with our older comrades, Mick and I, with the other nine who had lately joined, remained on the fore part of the deck.

"These boys, sir," said the instructor, touching respectfully his cap as he advanced towards the officer of the watch, who stood on the quarter- deck, a thin grey-haired old chap, whom I subsequently learnt was the gunner, though I never had the pleasure of seeing him before, "haven't been over the masthead yet, sir."

"All right," replied the gentleman addressed, saluting the instructor in his turn; the politeness and courteous deference paid on board all ships belonging to Her Majesty's Service from one officer to another, be his rank high or low, being one of the best lessons in manners that man or boy could have afloat or ashore, especially the latter. "Carry on!"

Permission, accordingly, being granted for the ordeal to which we were about to be subjected, the smart seaman-instructor came back to where we were drawn up in single file forwards.

"Now, my lads," he said, "you haven't any of you passed through your sea baptism yet, I think. Ever been up aloft, eh?"

He had stopped in front of 'Ugly,' whose face yet bore traces of our recent combat, although the cuts on his lip and nose had healed up; and, indeed, I couldn't well boast, for one of my eyes had a singularly picturesque greeny-yellowy look still about it.

"Hoi?" exclaimed 'Ugly,' in his yokel fashion. "I dunno wot yer means, zur."

"Well, I'll soon tell you," rejoined the instructor. "I mean, have you ever been over the masthead?"

"No-a," said 'Ugly,' staring sheepishly at him; and then, as he followed his questioner's eye, on it glancing up aloft, he added, "Doos yer mean oop there, zur?"

"Aye."

"No-a, zur."

"Then, you'll have to go up now," said the instructor, in a tone that showed he intended to be obeyed. "Lads, attention!"

We all drew ourselves up, 'Ugly' included, as rigid and woodeny as those strange figures that are supposed to represent the patriarchs Shem, Ham, and Japheth seen in the Noah's arks of our childhood.

"Boys," cried the instructor in a louder key, pointing as he spoke, "you see the mainmast there?"

We signified assent as well as we were able to do without losing our rigidity or speaking, which latter is strictly against rules when an officer is giving any order, except when an answer is specially demanded.

Noticing, however, that we all looked in the right direction, the seaman-instructor was satisfied with this reply; but really there was no reason why he should not be so, for if we had not seen the tall spar that he pointed out we must all have been blind!

At all events, he was satisfied; and that is all that concerns us at present.

"Now, boys," he continued, "you've got to go over the top of that there masthead, climbing right up the rigging on the port side, and coming down to starboard. Let me see which of you will be first to get over the crosstrees, and woe betide the last! Away you go, now, the lot o' ye! 'Way aloft!"

It was child's play to me; for, as I told Larrikins the first day I was on board, when he was trying to 'pull my leg' with his yarns of the mountainous seas he met in the Channel cruising in the Martin, 'shinning up the rigging' was no novelty to me.

Before you could say 'Jack Robinson' I had quickly sprung into the lee rigging; and, clambering up the ratlines and then outward by the futtock shrouds, I gained the top long ere half the rest had started.

"Well done, my lad; I see you have been on board a ship before!" cried out the instructor, as I at once proceeded now to climb up to the crosstrees and over the head of the mast. "Look alive, you other chaps! That boy there will have done the job while you are thinking about it. Stir your stumps!"

'Ugly' was the last of the lot; and, as I came down on the weather or starboard side of the ship, the wind then blowing from the nor'ard and eastward, he was just trying to creep through 'the lubber's hole' into the top.

"No you don't," shouted up the instructor after him. "You must climb out by the futtock shrouds, as every proper sailor does."

Seeing, however, that poor 'Ugly' was quite in a fog, he turned to me as I stepped down from the chains and stood up in front of him, touching my cap to report myself as having accomplished my task.

"I say, my boy," said he, "what's your name?"

Of course I had to reply to this, and so I told him—

"Tom Bowling, sir."

"Ha!" he exclaimed, apparently surprised. "Any relation of that chap in the song who 'went aloft and did his duty'?"

I grinned.

"Yes, sir, I believe so," I said. "Father says as how our family is descended from him."

"I can quite believe it," observed the instructor kindly, with a pleasant smile on his face. "At all events, a sailor's blood runs in your veins, my lad; and, as you're such a good climber and know your way up the ratlines, just go up now and show that lubber of a greenhorn how to get up the futtock shrouds without tumbling, and so over the masthead."

Accordingly, I raced aloft the second time and soon fetched up to 'Ugly,' who, in a mortal funk, was trying to step out from the lower rigging on to the futtock shrouds, which, I may explain for the benefit of those who have not been to sea, stretch out laterally from the mast, and not in towards it, like the ordinary standing rigging below.

In spite of his difficulty, however, the surly brute now accepted my help with a very ill grace; muttering under his breath to himself some very unfriendly wishes in my respect, as, with some difficulty, I lugged him up into the top, almost by the scruff of his neck.

The rest of the journey up and down was easy enough; and 'Ugly,' rendered bold by having crossed his goal, the crosstrees, disdaining any further help from me, now started, after he had arrived in the top, again on the return voyage to climb down the shrouds by himself.

But hardly had he got his foot over the side of the top than his courage failed him; and I, looking up, on account of feeling the rigging shake, for I had gone down in advance from his telling me he 'didn't want no help from sich a cove as me,' saw that he was trembling like an aspen leaf, while his face was as pale as death.

"Hold on," I cried, "I'll be up with you in half a minute, and lend you a hand!"

I don't know whether he heard me or not as I scrambled up hastily towards him; but the next instant, losing his grip of the rope he was hanging on to somehow or other, he fell back on top of me, uttering a wild yell that was almost a scream, and which could have been heard ashore at Gosport!



CHAPTER EIGHT.

"THE SWEETS OF FRIENDSHIP."

"How did you manage it, my boy?" panted out the instructor, out of breath by his rapid climb up the rigging to my aid, as I held on desperately to the shrouds, against which I pressed the body of my unconscious shipmate with my own, to prevent him from falling. "Lord! My lad, I thought you were both gone! Thank God, you saved him!"

But I could not tell him then, or after, how I contrived to catch 'Ugly' when he let go his hold; and to this very day, though it is pretty nearly six years or more agone, and many things have happened since even stranger, too, I put down the spontaneous act that prompted me to stretch out my hand in the nick of time and grip him by his waistbelt before it was too late, to the interposition of Providence—an intervention, indeed, not only on his behalf, but on my own, as subsequent events proved, though I will speak of this when the proper time comes.

The instructor, even in his hurry aloft to our assistance, had managed to snatch up on the way a coil of half-inch; and with this he now proceeded, breathing heavily the while from his exertions, to secure 'Ugly' temporarily to the ratlines until a whip could be rigged for sending down the still insensible fellow to the deck below.

This was a great relief to me, for it was as much as I could do to support his body, although, as I've said, I pressed him against the rigging, the chap weighing over ten stone at least, I should think, as he was a thickset yokel and inclined to be corpulent.

It all happened in a moment, though I seem to take so long telling about it; for, almost before the instructor could take a double turn with his half-inch round 'Ugly's' body and the rigging, half-a-dozen seamen, who had been hailed by the officer of the watch, the grey-haired gunner, had footed it up the ratlines and were in the top fixing a whip and purchase, to which one of the hammocks had been attached.

In this impromptu cradle 'Ugly' was let down very carefully and taken to the sick-bay, where, as I was afterwards told, Mr Trimmens the sick- berth steward being my informant, it required the application of the galvanic battery to bring him to, the fright he had undergone, and consequent shock to his system, having been so great!

"You saved his life, though, my lad, let me tell you," said the instructor to me, when we had followed the rescued boy down, and were again on the safe footing of the deck. "Why, Tom Bowling, that chap ought to be your friend for life after this."

I could not help shrugging my shoulders, with a grin 'on the left side of my mouth,' as sailors say; for, of course, I could not very well explain matters anent our recent fight.

The instructor looked at me inquiringly; and, seeing he expected some sort of a reply from me, I said, "He'll have to change very much, sir. He and I haven't been very friendly up to now, sir."

"Ah!" rejoined the instructor, "that don't count, my boy. The dearest friend I have in the world at the present time was once my bitterest enemy. He and I fell out about some trifle or other on joining the same ship and never spoke a single word to each other throughout the whole commission, though we were up the Straits at the time, and saw some queer rigs there, I can tell you. We've often laughed over it together since, and thought what fools we were."

"I don't think, sir," said I, "that Moses Reeks and I will ever be friends, so far as I can see."

"Well, time will tell," observed my good-natured adviser, who was a man like father, I saw, one always anxious to make the best of everything. "None of us ever know what will happen in this life, especially with sailor folk; and though you may think it difficult to 'make a silk purse out of a sow's ear,' for I can see, my lad, with half an eye that that unfortunate yokel is of a different stamp to you, still I've known stranger things occur. I wouldn't mind betting, if I ever did such a thing, that one day you and he will be the fastest chums."

"Perhaps, sir," I answered, in a very doubting manner; and I couldn't help adding, as I turned to go below to my dinner, if there should be any left for me, the other fellows having pretty well done by this time, "Some day, as father says, pigs may fly, sir!"

The instructor laughed.

"Your father, Tom Bowling," said he, giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder as I went down the after-hatchway, "must be a knowing hand; and I think, my lad, you take after him."

It being 'pea doo and bolliky' day, my fast friend Mick, who, from his highly developed instincts in the grub line, had been elected cook of our mess on the lower deck, had saved me a good basin of soup and hunch of bread, with which I managed to assuage the cravings of my appetite, this having been accentuated not only by my long wait but by my exercise aloft.

"Begorrah, Tom," said he, as he watched me tucking into the stuff with great complacency, while the rest of the fellows were cleaning up the mess-table and generally making things snug, "it's as good as aitin' onesilf fur to say how ye git outside that pay-soup. An ould play- acting chap I onst sayd a-swallerin' knoives an' sich loike onnatural stuff, worn't a patch on ye, me hearty!"

I had, however, to make short work of my meal, for the 'assembly' just then sounded; and, after our usual parade again on deck, according to the routine, a part of our division went ashore to a large field between Blockhouse Fort and Haslar on the Gosport side of the water, belonging to the Saint Vincent, and which is used for drilling the boys in marching and small-arm instruction.

Some of the remainder of us were put to signalling on the upper deck, carrying on highly interesting dialogues with small flags that were waved to and fro between the bows and stern of the ship; but the major part of the division—I, much to my delight, being one of the number— practised all the afternoon at boat-pulling. In this my experience with father's wherry during the last three or four years stood me in good stead; though I had some little difficulty at first in mastering the usual man-o'-war stroke with the long ash oars in the heavy launch which we pulled, the boat being double-banked.

The next day was the most exciting I had passed since I had been on board the ship, now over a week.

To begin with, it was 'pay-day,' the whole ship's company marching up to the paymaster in turn at the temporary office he had rigged up al fresco, as Mick's 'Oitalian' friends would say, on the upper deck, and receiving each his weekly pay; the boys being allowed, those of the first-class a shilling, and those of the second sixpence, for pocket- money, the balance being saved up to their account or else forwarded to their parents.

Much amusement was caused amongst us as we received the respective coins to which we were entitled, each holding out his cap for them; for a sailor, you know, puts everything in his cap. Pocketing our coin as we went below, Mick created the greatest fun of all as he spit on his and spun it in the air. "Hooray!" he cried out, against the regulations, though, fortunately for himself, not too loud, as he skated down the hatchway. "Begorrah, it's the foorst money Oi iver arnt in me loif! Faith, Tom mabouchal, we'll spind it togither an' hev a rig'ler jollification ashore!"

The bugle sounded 'cooks to their messes' as Mick was saying this; and so off he hurried to the galley on the fore part of the middle deck when we had got down the hatchway, I following after him.

On passing the entry-port, however, my old friend the master-at-arms hailed me.

"Hi, Tom Bowling!" he called out, beckoning me into the office; "I hope you haven't been getting into any row?"

"Not that I know of, sir," said I, flabbergasted by his question. "Why, sir?"

"Because the captain left word he wants to speak to you," he replied. "You must go up again on the main-deck to his quarters aft."

Thoroughly frightened at this, I proceeded as he had directed me; and, on reaching the door of the captain's cabin, the marine sentry standing outside passed on my name and I was ushered in.

Cap in hand and in a state of much trepidation, I went along the gangway with him; and 'bringing up' opposite an open door, I rapped at this with my heart in my mouth.

"Hallo!" cried a voice within. "Who's there?"

"T-t-t," I stammered— "T-T'm Bowling, sir."

"Oh!" exclaimed the same voice, in a softer and more kindly tone than at first, when, I confess, it sounded rather gruff and peremptory. "Come in, Tom Bowling."

With this, I went into what seemed to my eye, expecting, as I did, something very different on board ship, one of the grandest apartments I had ever seen; with sofas and pictures, and big looking-glasses, besides a piano at the end, just like a drawing-room. Why, the Queen herself couldn't have had a finer place to live in!

The captain, who, of course, was the owner of the voice that had previously spoken, I saw was a nice, pleasant-faced, good-looking officer, looking every inch a sailor, and a smart one too!

He was sitting in a comfortable easy-chair that was fitted with gimbals, like the compass card in a binnacle, or some other appliance which permitted the occupant to shift round as he pleased without moving the seat; as my commanding officer did now, in order to face me.

"Don't be afraid, my lad," he said kindly, seeing, no doubt, how nervous I looked. "I've only sent for you to let you know that I have been told of your exceedingly courageous conduct just now in saving your shipmate from a terrible death. I'm glad to see that you are bearing out by your behaviour the strong recommendation Captain Mordaunt, who is an old friend of mine, sent me when you came to join the service."

I declare you could have knocked me down with a feather on his saying this, the revulsion of feeling being so great; for I had expected something totally different, so I hardly knew what to say.

"Th-a-ank you, sir," I at last managed to get out. "I—I—I am very much obliged to you, sir."

"No obligation at all, my lad," he said, smiling. "I am only giving you your due, for I think you have really behaved in a very plucky manner, and deserve all that I have said, and more. I must tell you, though, I have heard something else also about you, Tom Bowling, which, perhaps, I might have been inclined to speak about, for I don't like any fighting or ill-feeling between the boys under my command here; but, after what has occurred, I shall not take any notice of what I might have heard to your detriment. Besides, I believe you were not particularly in fault, all things considered."

Fancy! He must have been told of the fight between 'Ugly' and me.

My face, no doubt, expressed the thoughts that passed through my mind; and, as I could see from a mirror opposite me, I appeared, as father used to say, "like a cat looking nine ways for Sunday!"

The captain, though, evidently wished to set me at my ease.

"Never mind, my boy," he said reassuringly. "We'll let bygones be bygones; and, as you have so nobly condoned the offence of fighting with your shipmate by subsequently saving his life, I feel more inclined to reward than punish you. Have you been allowed ashore yet to see your parents since you joined?"

"No, sir," I replied. "I didn't have my uniform rig last Sunday, sir."

"Well, then, my boy, you may go and see them this afternoon if you like, when you've finished your dinner. I will give you leave till Eight Bells."

So saying, he scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to me.

This was a pass, permitting me to be absent from the ship until the time specified on it.

Noticing, as I thanked him for his kindness, that I did not appear perfectly satisfied, he glanced at me scrutinisingly. His eye was like a gimlet, and seemed to penetrate my inmost thoughts; for, I declare, he guessed the feeling that was uppermost in my mind.

"Would you like, my lad," he said, smiling again, "to take a chum with you ashore?"

"Why, sir," I exclaimed, "that was the very thing I was thinking of!"

"Ha!" said he, "I fancied that was what was on your mind. Who is your chum?"

"Mick Donovan, sir," I replied; "he's an Irish lad who joined the ship the same time as me."

"All right; Mick Donovan shall go with you," said he. "Hand me back your pass."

This I did; whereupon he bracketed Mick's name with mine and returned me the paper.

"You may go now," he said kindly, seeing the rush of joy that must have been reflected on my face, filling, as it did, my heart, though I hesitated to leave without his permission, albeit anxious to communicate the good news to Mick. "Stop, Tom, here's half-a-crown for you and your chum to enjoy yourselves with."

He put the money into my hand as he spoke, extracting it from his pocket for the purpose; and, I recollect, it was a nice new bright half-crown piece, which, though it was 'melted' very soon, will never pass out of my remembrance as quickly as it did from my possession!

Of course I thanked him before leaving; and, in going below, I halted at the police office, to tell the master-at-arms the result of my interview with our chief, whereat he appeared much satisfied, though he cautioned me to continue to be a good boy and not outstay my leave.

Making my way from thence below, it didn't take me long to fetch up alongside Mick, who almost exploded with delight on my informing him we were to go ashore together. He pitched the piece of 'gammy duff' he was carving on his plate, which, by the way, was as hard as a brickbat, with the raisins or 'gammies' which it contained barely at signal distance apart, right up above his head to the deck beam, where it caught on to one of the hooks and remained a fixture.

"Bedad, Tom, ye're an anjul if ivver ther wor one," he cried, capering about as if he were mad. "We'll hev a splindid toime of it entoirely. Faith, Oi'll go and git me hair cut, to look like a jintlemin, afore I says yer sisther an' yer fayther and moother!"

"I think I'll do the same, Mick," said I. "They haven't seen me in my bluejacket rig yet, and I want to look as smart as I can too!"

Accordingly, the two of us had recourse to the ship's barber, who cropped us both so close that it would have puzzled anybody to have caught hold of what hair was left on the heads of either, aye even between his thumb and forefinger.

As a boat was leaving the ship early in the afternoon, we went in her; when, being landed at Point, we soon found our way to Bonfire Corner, I, of course, acting as the navigator.

Dear me, no one ever saw such a homecoming in their life before as that of mine that day!

Jenny, who was dusting a mat at the door, rushed frantically into my arms, mat and all, my little sister hugging me as if we had really been parted for years, instead of only for the short spell of time that had elapsed since our separation; and my mother, who was not so demonstrative, was quite as glad, I know, to see me; while as for father, who was having a spell-off in the backyard with his pipe, he beamed all over at the sight of me in my uniform.

"Lor', Tom!" he ejaculated, on my taking him unawares, with his head leaning back and the long churchwarden he was smoking dropping out of his mouth, for he had just started, with his eyes closed, for a 'lay off the land,' as he styled taking a snooze. "Ye're the very h'image of what I wer' when I wer' your age—though not quite so good-looking I'm a-thinking!"

He said this in joke, for he and I were in the habit when in the wherry together of carrying on in that way and chaffing each other; but mother, who had followed me up, with Jenny behind her and Mick Donovan keeping close company in her wake, took poor father up with a round turn!

"What do you know what you were like at his age?" she cried. "Judging by your present figurehead, you couldn't have been much to boast of!"

"Couldn't I?" rejoined father. "I tell you what, Sarah, there wer' a lot more gals 'sides you as wos a-runnin' arter me when I was a youngster and first jined the sarvice!" Hearing my mother's name mentioned, old 'Ally Sloper' at once struck up a screech, hopping through from the shop to join us.

"Say-rah, Say-rah!" he screamed, ruffling up the lemon crest on the top of his head, and spreading out the feathers round his neck that made him look as if he wore high collars. "I'll wring your neck!"

I thought Mick Donovan would have died of laughing on hearing the cockatoo speak so funnily, his mirth being so contagious that we all followed suit; and, what with the screeching and screaming of the other birds, which seemed to take 'Ally Sloper's' cry for a signal and chimed in, you never heard such a row in your life.

"Bedad, Oi'm kilt entoirely!" exclaimed Mick, when he had well-nigh laughed himself black in the face. "Oi nivver heerd such a baste in me loife fur talkin', to bay sure!"

That made us all begin the concert over again; and I really think we kept on laughing and then stopping, only to break out again, until mother spread the table for tea, just to "shut our mouths," as she said.

Both she and father were really pleased to see Mick, whom they had welcomed as my chum in the first instance, but presently began to like for his own sake after his being but a very short time in their presence—he was such a jolly chap all round!

My sister, however, seemed a bit shy with him, as indeed Mick appeared to be with her, the two hardly exchanging a word; though I noticed that when Jack, the thrush, commenced calling out in his soft way, "Jenny! Jenny!" Mick flushed up like a boiled lobster.

"Faith," he exclaimed, "that's a foine burd, an' a purty burd too; an', begorrah, he spakes the purtiest name I ivver heerd tell on in me loife."

He looked at Jenny as he said this; when, she too coloured up.

I couldn't tell you all that occurred that happy day, for the moments flew by like winking; and bye-and-bye we had to set sail again for our ship, laden with all sorts of good things to help out our diet on board, especially an enormous pot of jam, which mother said would last us for tea till we were able to come ashore again for another supply.

Father came with us down to Hardway, offering to put us on board in his wherry; and, though it was a longer voyage thence back to the ship than from Point, the tide being fortunately in our favour, we reached the Saint Vincent in good time, going up the accommodation ladder on the port side, which, as you know, is devoted to the use of the lower deck portion of the crew, just as Eight Bells struck.

"Ha, my lads," cried the 'Jaunty,' who stood by the entry-port, "you've just saved your bacon!"

The other fellows were just coming down from skylarking; and, going below with the lot, we found time before turning in—Mick having declared that he was "hungry enuf to ate an illiphant"—to sample the stock of grub mother had so thoughtfully provided us with.

The sight of the big jam-pot, however, presently attracted a crowd of sympathisers around us, whose affability and kindly attentions, nay, even respectful demeanour, was something wonderful.

Mick and I never knew till then what dear friends we had aboard; any boy with whom we might have exchanged a chance word appearing as delighted to see us again as if we had risen from the dead.

Amongst these, Larrikins was prominent.

"Lor', Tom Bowling," he whispered to me, as he sidled up near, "yer knows I tuk a fancy to yer when I see'd yer first."

"So you did, my joker," said I, of course seeing through his 'little game,' as well as that of 'Ginger,' the other first-class boy who had been told off to attend to us novices, and had, it may be remembered, acted as 'Ugly's' second. "You cut me down when I was in my hammock the first night I was aboard. That was a strong proof of your friendship towards me, eh, Larrikins?"

"Ah, Tom, that were only a little joke, don-cher-no," he replied, with a grin and a wink of the most expressive character, "Lor', yer don't bear no mallerce, I knows!"

What could I say?

He was not half a bad fellow either; and so, having experienced many a little kindness from him as a new hand, in spite of his strong propensity for practical-joking at my expense, which I do not believe he could have possibly resisted under any circumstances, I passed the word to Mick to make him free of the jam-pot.

So, too, with the rest of those that hung round us, sailors and sailor- boys generally being generous alike by nature and inclination; and the end of it was, that the supply which mother thought would have lasted Mick and me till we saw her again, vanished the same night!



CHAPTER NINE.

I BECOME A "FIRST-CLASS BOY."

Our life aboard after this passed very evenly, though not uneventfully; for there was hardly a day that something did not occur as interesting as it was novel to our previous experience.

Talk of a sailor's life being dull! Why, it's full of incident, full of interest, full of adventure; and even on board a harbour ship, like the Saint Vincent, I tell you, there is sport to be had afloat as well as ashore!

We had a rat-hunt once, some three or four weeks after I joined the ship.

The captain's dog, a fine cock-eared fox-terrier named 'Gyp,' with the most wonderful eyes, and a nose that worked with excitement as quickly as his short-cropped tail, which was docked to half an inch and was ever on the wag, got into the habit of coming forward on the forecastle whenever he was let out of his master's cabin, in the most unaccountable manner.

Now 'Gyp,' you must know, was a rather particular dog in his way, keeping to his own station when below; while, should he be taken up on the quarter-deck by the captain, or accompany any of the other officers there, he would never, as a rule, advance farther towards the fore part of the ship than the main-hatchway.

All of a sudden, however, master 'Gyp' takes it into his head to make free of the forecastle, and associate with such of the lower deck men who might chance to be there.

This, of course, was derogatory to his dignity as a captain's dog; but, although remonstrated with by his master's valet, who had charge of him when the captain did not take him ashore—aye, and even whipped for thus straying forwards—'Gyp' would persist in his unseemly predilection for low life, utterly regardless of his proper rank as an officer, with a collar and badge. This article was of gold lace, and became him well, contrasting favourably with his black-and-tan head and soft white coat, which latter was guiltless of spot or blemish.

The fact was, I had better acknowledge it at once so as to preserve the poor animal's character, which was, and is, so far as I know up to the present, as spotless as his coat, never having had a slur cast upon it, save in this one respect, that 'Gyp,' as the master-at-arms said, in his funny way, "smelt a mice."

Not only that, 'Gyp' smelt rats; and, what is more, he managed to nab one very cleverly as the rodent was leisurely hopping up the hatchway in the most free and easy manner from below, with a piece of cheese in its mouth which the beggar had appropriated from the steward's pantry, or from the mess of some Johnny below!

This happened in the afternoon, just after inspection on the upper deck and when the divisions were dispersing to their respective drills, for I was going below with some of the other chaps at the time to man the pumps on the orlop deck, the second time I had been put to this job since I had come on board, and I can't say I liked it!

Now, whether 'Gyp' carried the rat he had captured cosily to the captain's quarters, or through some one taking the tale aft, I'm sure I can't say; but, while the working party of us boys told off to clear the bilge were pumping away for dear life, and looking out for old Jellybelly, who was superintending our task, to sing out 'spell ho!' to give us breathing time, down comes a lot of the officers after their lunch, with the captain at the head of them, accompanied by Master 'Gyp,' who, somehow or other, didn't need anybody to show him the way, though he hadn't been below in the ship there to my knowledge before, his nose being as good as a compass, and pointing out where he thought his services might be required.

"I hear, Tarbolt," said the captain, addressing old Jellybelly by his proper name, "you have rats aboard here?"

"Aye, aye, sir," replied the quarter-master, drawing himself up sharp from the act of touching up with his cane one of the boys a little way from me, whom he fancied wasn't putting sufficient elbow grease into his work. "I believe, sir, as how the ship reg'lerly swarms with 'em. They wore working away, sir, last night at some of the b'ys' hammicks; and one of 'em yelled out that they was nibblin' their toes!"

"Oh!" cried the captain, "we must put a stop to that. My dog here is a good ratter, and I think he'll be able to polish off a few for you. Where do you think, Tarbolt, the brutes hang out?"

"Away forrard, sir, under some o' that spare gear thet's stowed there, sir; and likewise down in the bilge amongst the ballast and dunnage."

"Very good; shove your lantern, Tarbolt, over here," said the captain, edging forwards as he spoke, with 'Gyp' and the rest of the officers a- following him. "Boys, you can stand off for a bit from your pumping and come and see the fun."

We didn't need any further invitation, being only too glad to let go of the beastly crank-handles; not to speak of the interest we took in the anticipated enjoyable sport.

"Hi, 'Gyp,' rats!" shouted the captain, when we all came up to a pile of old casks and sails in the fore peak. "Go for 'em, good dog!"

The wardroom steward and the captain's valet had come down in the rear of the officers, each of them provided with a lantern; and so, what with the lights we already had with us, the place was sufficiently illuminated for all to see the whole proceedings, which, needless to say, we witnessed with the utmost delight, Mick, who was alongside of me, staring open-mouthed, his face one broad grin from ear to ear.

"Begorrah!" he whispered to me. "Sure, it bates Bannagher, an's a'most as good as what Oi've heerd tell of Donnybrook Fair, in the ould toimes, from me fayther!"

All we could see of 'Gyp' for some little time was a portion of his stern quarters, with his little butt-end of a tail wagging away at high- pressure speed, just like the escapement of a clock from which the pendulum has been temporarily taken, so that it has for the moment no check on its action.

Then, all at once, with a low growl, and every individual hair on his white coat standing erect, his whole body the while quivering with excitement, 'Gyp' plunged forwards and disappeared into darkness, only to reappear an instant later with an enormous rat, which he had gripped in the small of the back, the vicious beast trying to worm itself round so as to tackle his nose.

'Gyp,' however, knew a trick worth two of that, and, as he emerged into the open again, chucked the rat up aloft in the air, almost to the deck beams, and then, pouncing on it as the brute fell back under his expectant jaws, the terrier severed its head from its body with one snap!

Another and another, and yet another, he served in like fashion, ferreting in amongst the dunnage, and then coming out again with a fresh victim each time; until, presently, finding their retreat 'too warm' for them, the rats sallied out in a crowd, skating over the deck and climbing up the bulkheads to get out of the way of their relentless enemy. The lot of us then coming to the aid of 'Gyp,' the captain and all catching up anything handy to have a shy at them, the family of rodents that had been having such a gay old time below for so long without interference, was soon exterminated; after which the dog and his master, with the other officers, returned to the main-deck, while we resumed our work at the pumps all the more heartily from the bit of play we had had, old Jellybelly never once grumbling again till we had done.

We had a good rise out of the old quarter-master the very same evening, though, which was rather ill-natured on our part.

He was on duty at the gangway, when one of the new chaps, who, like Larrikins, had a great bent for practical skylarking, went to him with a smug face, as innocent as you please.

"I say, sir," said he, in a tone of the deepest sympathy, "don't you feel werry tired, sir, a-standing theer so long?"

"Aye, my son," replies old Jellybelly, thinking to himself, no doubt, that the chap showed wonderful good feeling for a boy; he regarding them all as a rule, not without reason probably, as imps of mischief. "It is rather tiring sometimes. I feels it in my bones and all down my legs."

"Then, sir," rejoined the young demon, who only wanted to draw him out and laugh at him, "why doesn't yer sit down on the rail, sir?"

Of course, this would have been almost a penal offence for the quarter- master to have done, he being on duty at an appointed station; and the remark he made as his tormentor made off with a laugh, which was joined in by all the adjacent boys, was a caution.

Mick, not long after this, had Mr Brown, the ship's corporal, nicely too.

He crammed his bag and a lot of other things into his blanket, which he rolled up so as to represent a sort of lay figure, stowing this into his hammock at turning-in time, just before the 'out lights' sounded.

Keeping as grave as a judge, Mick then went up to the corporal.

"If y' playse, sor," said he, "some gossoon or t'other, sor, has bin an' gone an' got into me hammick, sor, bad cess to him!"

"Oh, has he, Paddy," replied Mr Brown, switching his cane, and then drawing it as he gripped it with his right hand carefully through his left, as if feeling whether it had the right sort of edge on it or no. "I'll soon make him shift his billet, my boy."

We, of course, were all in the joke, and watched Mr Brown with great glee as he stole stealthily up to Mick's hammock and let fly a shower of blows on the supposed intruder's body, accompanying the caning with some pertinent remarks of a very forcible nature anent the offender's want of manners and unneighbourliness towards a brother shipmate; whereupon we all burst into a regular guffaw, and Mick sought refuge in flight on the exposure of his little plot before Mr Brown could pay him out.

The corporal, though, took it in very good part, and did not bear my chum any subsequent ill-will for thus taking him in; albeit, he was wary enough to be on his guard against Mick hoaxing him a second time.

Jokes like these came as little interludes, so to speak, to 'ease the wheels' of our duties, which, however, were to me, at all events, more of a pleasure than so many tasks; that is, after I had gone through the initiatory instructions and drills, and was able to hold my own with the smartest of my shipmates.

I cannot say, though, that I cared much for the schooling, seven months of which every second-class boy on board the Saint Vincent has to undergo before he can gain the first rank.

Equally as certainly, however, I must allow that the teaching I gained, watch and watch about, in that big schoolroom astern on the lower deck turned out of considerable assistance to me, not only in my subsequent experience afloat in the navy, especially when serving abroad, but ashore too; for I there learnt the art of learning things, which is the great secret of education to man or boy, though we youngsters do not realise this when we have the chance of getting hold of it.

But it was the seamanship instruction that I went in for with the greatest zest; and, from knotting and splicing up to compass, and helm, and signalling, I don't think I fell far short of what Captain Mordaunt said when he persuaded father to let me go to sea and join the training- ship—that I was a born sailor and a regular 'chip of the old block.'

In connection with this, I may state, that of all the practical lessons I learnt in sailoring on board the Saint Vincent, the going aloft for sail-drill used to please me best.

Every morning at eight o'clock we used to go up the rigging and practise loosing and furling the sails, crossing the royal-yards, and making all things snug before coming down on deck to our usual divisional instruction.

On Mondays the whole forenoon was devoted to these evolutions, the sails being set one after the other, topsails, topgallants, royals, and even stu'nsails sometimes, besides the courses and headsails below; until, often, the whole ship was piled with canvas as if she were fetching down Channel on a cruise, her spars quivering with the strain frequently, when we had the wind abeam from the southward and east'ard, and every rope as taut as a bar of iron!

We used to work our way from the lower yards to the dignity of the upper by rotation more than through any special smartness and activity; and I know I was as pleased as Punch when it came to my turn to be an 'upper- yard boy.'

I was never so happy as when aloft; and many a time up there of a morning have I gazed out to seaward, looking over Southsea beach and the boats clustered in the fairway, that seemed but little dots from the height where I was, to the open stretch of water beyond Spithead and Saint Helens, that seemed to draw my heart to it like a magnet, making me long to leave my present stay at home surroundings and sail away and away on the boundless deep.

This desire of mine was gratified in part after I had been serving for nine months as a second-class boy, and passed satisfactorily through all my drills and instructions; when Mick and I got promoted.

Strangely enough, my chum the Irish lad proved himself, landsman though he had been before and never having even smelt the sea prior to his coming to Portsmouth, quite as expert as myself after a short stay aboard the training-ship; though I had been associated with ships and seafaring folk from the time I drew my first breath, and indeed, like all the Bowlings, as I told you at the beginning of my yarn, was born with the taste for 'the briny,' the feeling being inherent to my blood.

It strikes me, though, that my sister Jenny had something to do with this.

Mick heard her say the first day when I first took him home with me to visit father and mother at Bonfire Corner, that she loved sailors, and wondered how any young fellow could possibly care for anything else, when he had a chance of going afloat and serving his Queen and country, and fighting the battles of Old England.

The remark was a chance one; but, though Mick must have heard Jenny say a good many other things, for he was often at our house afterwards, being generally in the habit of accompanying me home when I had leave to go, he never forgot those words and somehow or other seemed to strive his best to reach Jenny's ideal.

So, you see, smart seaman though I fancied myself to be even at that early age, I had to look out lest I should be supplanted by my own chum; for no sooner did I get the start of him in one thing than he would fetch alongside of me and be working ahead before I well knew where I was, the 'owdacious young beggar,' as father dubbed him, becoming actually a 'royal-yard boy' the following week to myself, while both of us, as I have said, were made first-class boys together.

Unfortunately, this was during the winter months; and, as the training- brig Martin, which is attached to the Saint Vincent as a sea-going tender in order to cruise about in the Channel to give the boys practical experience of their profession—like a frolicsome chick hanging round a broody old hen that won't leave her nest—does not go out of harbour till the spring, Mick and I were unable for some time to take advantage of the grand privilege of our rise and really go to sea.

We thought the blissful period would never come.

But 'it's a long lane that knows no turning'; and, winter ebbing away into the flood of spring anon, we, with some ninety and nine other youngsters of the same standing, set sail one fine April morning from Portsmouth Harbour, the Martin slipping her buoy abreast of Blockhouse Fort, and standing out into the Solent under easy canvas, with a fair wind from the nor'-east.

A hundred boys are always taken at a time for a month's cruise in the brig, the lot being accompanied by some of the smartest seamen belonging to the complement of the mother training-ship, so that they have every opportunity of picking up now the nautical knowledge necessary to make them worth their salt, in reference both to seamanship and gunnery.

We had a pretty fair knock-about time in the Channel, running down to Plymouth and back, having a 'sojer's wind,' one that was fair both ways, out and home again; and, though, from this fact, we necessarily made an easy passage of it, some of the boys were woefully seasick, many of them never having been at sea before.

Notably among these was Mick.

"Bedad!" moaned he, leaning over the side with his dark face turned to pale green that seemed a faint reflection of the water below, into which he looked apparently with the deepest interest as he sacrificed his dearly loved dinner to Neptune, paying the sea-god his dues, "Oi fale, Tom me darlint, as if Oi'd brought up iverythink, faith, since furst Oi jined the ship, an' me boots, begorrah, same in the back of me hid! Wurrah, wurrah, why did Oi ivver come to say? Och, Tom mabouchal, kill me at onst, and be done with it!"

I could not help laughing at him, he presented such a contrast to the buoyant lad of my ordinary acquaintance; though, of course, I tried to sympathise with my woe-begone chum.

But ere long something occurred which made him, and the others in a like predicament, forget their seasickness in a hurry, all of us having to be as spry as we could.

The Martin took the ground!

I'll tell you how this happened.

We had run up Channel, as I have told you, with a fair wind from the start; but, on our reaching the westernmost end of the Isle of Wight, this turned against us, so that after passing through the Needles we had to beat up the Solent in the teeth of a stiff sou'-easter.

This, of course, gave us plenty of exercise in tacking; and the constant going aloft, with the brig rolling and a choppy sea under her, had overset the equilibrium of poor Mick's stomach.

We had tacked and 'reached' in this way for some time, making short boards between the Hampshire coast and the Island opposite; when, in going about off the Brambles, through one of the uncertain currents which infest Southampton Water taking her on the slant as we shivered our headsails to come up to the wind, the brig missed stays and struck on the edge of the shoal.



CHAPTER TEN.

"UNDER FIRE!"

"Look alive, my lads!" shouted out our tall commander, as we stumbled about the deck of the brig, the shock as her keel touched ground knocking us off our pins and making the poor seasick chaps who were holding their heads over the side pull them in pretty promptly. "Watch, furl sails! 'Way aloft!"

The sheets and halliards were let go in a twinkling before we left the deck and the topsails dropped on the caps, as well as the jib downhaul manned and the spanker brailed up, so as to prevent our being forced farther upon the shoal; and, while we were shinning up the rigging, the clewlines and buntlines were hauled by the watch below, which got in all the slack of the sails preparatory to our passing the gaskets when we got aloft, thus enabling us to furl all the canvas, and make everything snug in less time than I take to tell of it.

In the meanwhile our commander made himself busy in other ways, the cutter being lowered and a party of seamen and boys sent in her with a kedge to drop astern and try to warp off; the port bower anchor being dropped at the same time, and a spring set on the cable, which was buoyed so that we could slip it in a moment in the event of her suddenly floating.

A 'distant signal' was also hoisted at the main, consisting of a square flag on top with a ball below, which meant that we were aground and wanted assistance, to let the men on watch at the Hurst Castle signal- station know what was up with us; and, in addition, our smart commanding officer put on a party of boys at the pumps, to see whether the brig might not have strained her timbers and sprung a leak, through working about on the nasty sand bottom of the Brambles.

This latter precaution, however, proved a useless one; for the gang of eager lads working away with a will at the crank-handles of the pumps, soon cleared the little amount of water that was in the bilge, and the shaft sucked dry.

"Ther' ain't a drop in her," reported Mr Tarbolt, the quarter-master, 'old Jellybelly,' as we called him amongst ourselves. "I don't think, sir, as how she's made a h'inch since we passed the Needles and last cleared ship."

"Very good, quarter-master," said the commander; "you can stop pumping."

The chaps who had gone off in the cutter had been equally spry with their job, bending on a stout hemp hawser through the ring of the kedge anchor, which they dropped some half a cable's length from the brig, bringing back the other end aboard, where it was put round the capstan on the forecastle.

This was at once manned, there being no want of volunteers, every one of us wanting to have a turn at the capstan bars, even before Mr Gadgett, the gunner, who was on duty forward, gave the word.

But it was a case of 'yo heave' and 'paul' in vain, the hemp cable coming home as taut as possible, and then surging off the capstan without moving the poor little Martin a hair's-breadth from her sandy bed.

"We must get out the stream anchor, Mr Gadgett," sang out the commander. "Look alive there and rig out the davits, and send some hands into the cutter to stow the anchor properly when we lower it down!"

This was done, the heavy stream anchor, which was always kept ready on the forecastle in case of any such emergency, being eased down by means of its shank painter and the fish tackle until it rested comfortably across the sternsheets of the boat; while another stout hawser accompanying it, was coiled round the whole interior of the boat on top of the thwarts.

The cutter then pulled off to about the same distance at which the kedge had been dropped, though more on the quarter of the brig than dead aft; and, the end of the second hawser being brought aboard like the first, all hands set to work with a cheery song, as we had no drum and fife band with us in the brig—for, though not strictly according to naval discipline, the commander permitted the licence so as to make the fellows move round all the smarter.

"Yo—ho, my lads!" bawled out old Jellybelly, quite in his element, I believe, as he liked to hear his own voice. "Round she comes! Heave and paul with a yo—heave—ho!"

"By jingo, she's moving!" Mr Gadgett quivered out, more excited than I had ever seen the grey-haired gunner before. "Another turn or two, my lads, and she'll be afloat!"

His excitement communicated itself to the commander aft, who was looking over the stern and anxiously watching the water, to see if our rudder, which was kept amidships, made any ripple on the surface; though, wide awake, our officer was keeping a keen eye, too, on the manilla hawser attached to the stream anchor, which was in such a ticklish state of tension from the strain that it was singing out like a fiddle-string.

"Hurrah!" he cried a moment after. "She is moving, Mr Gadgett. Stand by there, furrud, to veer off the cable of the port bower!"

Tramp, tramp, went the fellows round the capstan; turn by turn, in came the slack of the warp; and then in another five minutes or so, with a harsh grating sound as her keel slid off a rocky bit of the shoal on which she had rested, the gallant little Martin was afloat again!

Almost at the same instant as the dancing motion of her hull told us that the brig had been restored to her native element, the commander, wishing to get away as soon as he could from the dangerous neighbourhood of the Brambles, gave an order to the boatswain's mate standing near him, who instantly put his whistle to his lips and blew a shrill call whose import we all well knew.

"Watch, make sail!" then shouted the commander, rubbing his hands with much satisfaction. "Topmen, aloft and loose the topsails! Let go your topsail halliards! Man the head sheets!"

While these directions were being carried out, the port bower was weighed; when the jib being hoisted and the topsails dropped and sheeted home, the brig paid off on the starboard tack, picking up the kedge and stream anchor as soon as we fetched over them in rounding-to.

The cutter, which had remained alongside ready for further use if required, was then hoisted up to the davits; and the Martin, spreading her wings again properly, made off towards Cowes just as one of the Government tugs, which had been despatched to our assistance from the dockyard on the receipt of a telegraphic message from Hurst Castle telling of our mishap, came round the corner of Stokes Bay, puffing away at a fine rate, and throwing up a cloud of black smoke that spoilt the beauty of the landscape, and shut out everything to leeward from view.

"Begorrah!" said Mick, from whom the fine fuss and fright and flurry had banished all traces of his previous illness, making him as right as ninepence again, "they're jist in toime to be too late, sure!"

Our commander exchanged signals with the people on the tug, however, telling them that their services were not required, though thanking them for the help they would have rendered us; and the wind, which had been shifting about to all parts of the compass while we had been ashore on the sand ledge, now veering to the south'ard and west'ard, we bore away before it with squared yards up the Solent towards Spithead, where we anchored for the night, almost in the fairway, abreast of Southsea Castle.

Next morning we came into harbour, when a dockyard diver was sent down to see if the brig had sustained any damage from her pranks of the previous day; but, all being found staunch and sound below, only the copper on her keel having received a little extra polish, we were ordered to go out again into the Channel and continue our cruise.

The most noteworthy feature of this, excepting, of course, the setting and reefing and taking in sail on board a moving vessel, instead of practising all these merely in dumb-show as had been our wont in a stationary ship like the Saint Vincent, was the exercise we had with the old-fashioned little muzzle-loading truck guns, which were mounted on wooden carriages of the sort only seen in the old Victory nowadays, with which the Martin was provided.

It was great fun.

The boys in turn detailed to act as crews of the guns used to be numbered off in regular fashion, according to the custom of the service, just as if they were grown men and working on board a ship going into action.

Number 1, who was the captain of the gun, stood in the rear; Number 2, on the right of the former, but clear of the recoil, as if to teach one that prominent and distinguished positions have their drawbacks as well as their advantages; Number 3 stood close up to the ship's side, by the breeching of the gun on the left; and Number 4 occupied a similar post on the right, while Numbers 5 and 6 stood in the rear of 3 and 4, and so on.

Through the energetic instructions of Mr Gadgett, who was a most painstaking officer, and spared no trouble to teach us our duties properly, we had learnt when ashore on our drill-ground at Haslar to master all the necessary manipulation of our 'little barkers,' as the gunner used to call them, learning how to cast them loose from their lashings, run them back for loading, and prepare them for firing, all in similar dumb-show fashion to our sail-drill experiences in the old ship; and now, when we were able to load with real powder and shot, and make Mr Gadgett's 'barkers' bark in earnest, the interest of our gunnery drill was increased tenfold.

It was splendid work; and from the first order, 'Cast loose!' to the last, 'Fire!' it was exciting to the last degree, all of us sponging, loading, and running out the little guns in the highest of spirits, as if we were fighting the Battle of Trafalgar over again, and throwing shot and shell into any number of French and Spanish three-deckers alongside!

We had hard work sometimes to check ourselves from uttering a wild cheer when the order was given to pull the trigger and the gun went off with a grand 'Bang!' sending a cloud of white smoke inboard from its muzzle as its fiery iron messenger leaped forwards and splashed into the sea, either ahead or abeam as the case might be, throwing up a tall column of water on its first plunge that was like a sort of fountain, while it skipped onward, playing 'ducks and drakes' on the top of the waves, until it sank out of sight in the distance, its energy exhausted.

We often used to rig out a target, made up out of an old rum puncheon, fixed on a raft of spars, which we fired at as at a mark, making very good practice, too, after a bit.

Mick soon became one of our best shots, Mr Gadgett complimenting him on having the sharpest eye on board the brig, my chum often, when acting as Number 1, who you must know invariably sights the gun, succeeding in smashing our improvised target all to pieces.

"How is it, Donovan," asked the gunner on one of these occasions, "you have such a steady aim? Why, boy, you haven't been at it very long. Your eye is like a hawk, by jingo!"

Mick scratched his head in father's way, puzzled to explain his keenness of vision.

"Faith, sor," he said at length, "it moost 'a bin tryin' to say if I could say any thin' good turn up afore I jined the sarvice, sure; whin me fayther wor a blissid Oitalian organ-grinder an' none of us had nothin' to ate, bedad!"

"By jingo!" exclaimed Mr Gadgett, smiling for once, for I never previously saw the slightest change of muscle on his thin, weather- beaten, grey-whiskered face, "you'll do!"

Before we came back again from this cruise, we had a bout of bad weather while knocking about in the Channel, which brought back to my mind the yarn Larrikins told the first evening I passed on board the Saint Vincent, in order to distract my attention while he was rigging up my hammock so that it would come down by the run—of seas that were 'mountings 'igh,' and winds that blew the ''air off 'is 'ead!'

I took at the time, it may be recollected, Master Larrikins' tale with a very good pinch of the proverbial salt, believing he only intended to 'pull my leg'; but when on the present occasion the brig began to labour heavily and the green seas, rolling over from the open sea beyond Ushant, the wind having come on to blow a regular stiff sou'-wester, topped our bulwarks and made a clean sweep of the deck, I thought possibly the old joker Larrikins, who had left the training-ship long ere this and was serving as an ordinary seaman on a foreign station, might not have been 'stretching' to such an extent as I had at the time imagined.

The little brig, however, was a staunch sea boat, having braved much worse weather than we now experienced; and, being well handled by our commander, who was a sailor every inch of him, we ran before the gale round the easternmost end of the Isle of Wight and snugly brought up under the lee of Saint Helens, where we dropped both our anchors, remaining in this sheltered roadstead until the weather broke, when we returned to Portsmouth.

So far, everything had gone well with me since I entered on board the Saint Vincent, for I had never got into any trouble beyond a slight scrape or two; but tow the Fates, as if to condone the previous good fortune with which they had favoured me, all at once did me a very bad turn, getting me into sad disgrace.

Serious as the matter was, no doubt, in the eyes of the authorities, it was not, however, such a very terrible crime in itself, though it got me into the bad books of the captain, who had been so friendly disposed towards me that he often used to let me take his dog 'Gyp' for a walk when I went ashore.

The fact was, to confess my sin outright, I committed a breach of one of the strictest regulations of the training service.

I was caught smoking.

But, I had better tell you all about it from the first to the last, and then, you'll be able to judge for yourself of the heinousness of my offence.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

I GET INTO DISGRACE.

After that first cruise of mine in the little Martin, I was at home one Saturday afternoon, having had permission from the captain—being what they call 'a local boy,' my parents residing in Portsmouth—to remain ashore till Sunday evening at sunset. It was now summer-time, and I was sitting in our back garden, which was more extensive than might have been expected from the surroundings of Bonfire Corner, the house, as I have said, being an old-fashioned one and father having bought the freehold for a mere song in the days when property in Portsea did not fetch such a high price as at present. The pink and white blossoms of the apple-trees, of which we had a tidy number round the garden, had dropped off long ere now and the fruit was beginning to form; but there were plenty of roses still out, and all sorts of old- fashioned flowers, filling the air with fragrance.