ere beyond
the Apostles' Battery, opposite Port Royal Harbor, an evidence of one or
a sign of the last aspiration? We hope not; but we shall see.[*]

Three or four midshipmen, too, pranced over that frigate's white
quarter-deck, on the port side, in their blue jackets and duck trowsers.
Little gay madcaps they were, scarcely well into their teens, with
little glittering toasting-forks of dirks dangling at their sides, and
ready for any lark or mischief.

And what thought those boyish imps of reefers? Did they trace the flight
of that tropic man-of-war bird, sailing high up in the heavens, heading
seaward, away into the distant future, through clouds and sunshine, rain
and storm? And did they think, as they fluttered along the deck, that
their own career might lead them in that direction, toward the star of
promotion which shone so brightly near at hand, and was never reached;
or else, by a chance shot, to come tumbling down with a crippled pinion,
and hobble out their lives on shore? No. Those gay young blades, whose
mothers were dreaming and sighing for them, had no reflections of that
kind. They were chattering about the little frolic they had on their
last liberty day, when the captain ordered them off to the frigate at
sunset, and planning another for the week to come. Happy little scamps,
let them dance their careless thoughts away!

"Two bells, sir," said the quarter-master to the officer of the watch.

"Very good! Young gentlemen, tell the boatswain to turn the hands to,
and have the barge manned. Let the first lieutenant and the marine
officer know that the commodore is going to leave the ship. There, no
larking on the quarter-deck, Mr. Mouse!"

This last command was addressed to a tiny youngster who was hardly big
enough to go without pantalettes, much less to wear a jacket and order
half a hundred huge sailors about, any one of whom was old enough to be
his great-grandfather. But yet that small lad did it, and could steer a
boat, too, or fly about like a ribbon in a high wind up there in the
mizzen-top, while the men on the yard were taking the last reef in the
top-sail.

"Go down to the cabin, sir, and let the commodore and his friend know
the boat is ready."

Down the ladder skipped Mr. Mouse, and while he was gone, the guard, in
their white summer uniform and cross-belts, stood at ease, resting on
their muskets on the quarter-deck, eight side-boys and the boatswain at
the starboard gangway, with the