e field of battle, too--knight banneret of
the order of the light bobs."

I was standing with the captain's glass to my eye, looking over the
hammocks. In order to get near me he had been obliged to cling hold of
the hammock rails with both hands, so that his huge, round, red face,
just peeped above the tarpaulin hammock cloths, his chin resting upon
them, no bad type of an angry sun showing his face above the rim of a
black cloud, through a London November fog.

"Take care doctor," I sang out, for I had seen the flashings of the
enemy's guns.

"Light bobs," said the jeering doctor; when away flew the upper part of
his hat, and down he dropped on the deck, on that part which nature
seems to have purposely padded in order to make the fall of man easy.

"No light bob, however," said I.

The doctor arose, rubbing with an assiduity that strongly reminded me of
my old schoolmaster, Mr Root.

"To your station, doctor," said the captain, harshly.

"Spoilt a good hat in trying to make a bad joke;" and he shuffled
himself below.

"Your gig, Captain Reud, cut all to shivers," said a petty officer.

This was the unkindest cut of all. As we were approaching Barbados, the
captain had caused his very handsome gig to be hoisted in from over the
stern, placed on the thwarts of the launch, and it had been in that
position only the day before, very elaborately painted. The irritated
commander seized hold of the lanyard of one of the eighteen pounders,
exclaiming, at the same time, "Mr Burn, when you have got your sight,
fire!"

The two pieces of artillery simultaneously roared out their thunders,
the smoke was driven aft immediately, and down toppled the three
topmasts of the corvette. The falling of those masts was a beautiful
sight. They did not rush down impetuously, but stooped themselves
gradually and gracefully, with all their clouds of canvas. A swan in
mid air, with her drooping wings broken by a shot, slowly descending,
might give you some idea of the view. But after the descent of the
multitudinous sails, the beauty was wholly destroyed. Where before
there careered gallantly and triumphantly before the gale a noble ship,
now nothing but a wreck appeared painfully to trail along laboriously
its tattered and degraded ruins.

"What do you think of that shot, Mr Farmer?" said the little captain,
all exultation. "Pray, Mr Rattlin, where did Mr Burn's shot fall?"

"_One_ of the shot struck the water about half