ry
hot, found a snug shady place on deck, and went off to sleep.

That was very easy in those latitudes. Whether the sun shone or whether
it was gloomy, black, and precursive of a thunder-storm, an European had
only to sit down in a rocking chair, or swing in a hammock, and he went
off into a delicious slumber almost on the instant.

So far so good; the difficulty was to keep asleep; and so Bob Roberts
found.

He had settled himself in a low basket-work chair, beneath a stout piece
of awning which shed a mellow twilight upon the deck, and loosening his
collar, he had dropped off at once; but hardly was he asleep before
"burr-urr-urr boom-oom-oom, boozz-oozz-oozz" came a great fly, banging
itself against the awning, sailing round and round, now up, now down, as
if Bob's head were the centre of its attraction, and he could not get
farther away. Now it seemed to have made up its mind to beat itself to
pieces against the canvas, and now to try how near it could go to the
midshipman's nose without touching, and keeping up all the time such an
aggravating, irritating buzz that it woke Bob directly.

There was plenty of room for the ridiculous insect to have flown right
out from beneath the awning and over the flashing river to the jungle;
but no, that did not seem to suit its ideas, and it kept on with its
monotonous buzz, round and round, and round and round.

Half awake, half asleep, Bob fidgeted a little, changed his position,
and with his eyes shut hit out sharply at his tormentor, but of course
without effect.

He turned over, turned back; laid his head on one side; then on the
other; and at last, as the miserable buzzing noise continued, he jumped
up in a rage, picked up a book for a weapon, and followed the fly about,
trying to get a fair blow--but all in vain. He hit at it flying,
settled on the canvas roof; on the arms of chairs, and on the deck, and
twice upon a rope--but all in vain: the wretched insect kept up its
irritating buzz, till, hot, panting, his brows throbbing with the
exertion, Bob made a furious dash at it, and with one tremendous blow
crushed it flat.

The middy drew a long breath, wiped the perspiration from his forehead,
and, panting and weary, threw himself back in the chair, and closed his
eyes.

He was a clever sleeper, Bob Roberts. Like the Irishman who went to
sleep for two or three days, when Bob went to sleep, he "paid attintion
to it." In a few seconds then he was fast, and--t