e; he could fatten pigs and poultry, and had a
peculiar way of improving the size, though not the breed of the latter;
in short, he was "jack of all trades and master of none."

I shall not go any farther back with his memoirs than the day he chose
to teach an old woman how to make mutton broth. He had in the course of
an honest discharge of his duty at a certain very dirty sea-port town,
incurred the displeasure of the lower orders generally: he nevertheless
would omit no opportunity of doing good, and giving advice to the poor
gratis. One day he saw a woman emptying the contents of a boiling
kettle out of her door into the street. He approached, and saw a leg of
mutton at the bottom, and the unthrifty housewife throwing away the
liquor in which it had been boiled.

"Good woman!" said the economical baronet, "do you know what you are
doing? A handful of meat, a couple of carrots, and a couple of turnips,
cut up into dice and thrown into that liquor, with a little parsley,
would make excellent mutton broth for your family."

The old woman looked up, and saw the ogre of the dockyard; and either by
losing her presence of mind or by a most malignant slip of the hand, she
contrived to pour a part of the boiling water into the shoes of Sir
Hurricane. The baronet jumped, roared, hopped, stamped, kicked off his
shoes, and ran home damning the old woman, and himself too, for having
tried to teach her how to make mutton broth. As he ran off, the
ungrateful hag screamed after him, "Sarves you right; teach you to mind
your own business."

The next day, in his magisterial capacity, he commanded the attendance
of "the dealer in slops."

"Well, madam, what have you to say for yourself for scalding one of his
Majesty's justices of the peace? Don't you know that I have the power
to commit you to Maidstone gaol for the assault?"

"I beg your honour's pardon humbly," said the woman; "I did not know it
was your honour, or I am sure I wouldn't a' done it; besides, I own to
your honour I had a drop too much."

The good-natured baronet dismissed her with a little suitable advice,
which no doubt the good woman treated as she did that relative to the
mutton broth.

My acquaintance with Sir Hurricane had commenced at Plymouth, when he
kicked my ship to sea in a gale of wind for fear we should ground on our
beef bones. I never forgave him for that. My father had shown him
great civility, and had introduced me to him. When at H