ge.

O.S.

* * * * *

GOOD-BYE TO THE AUXILIARY PATROL.

II.--THE SHIP'S COMPANY.

Demobilisation in the Navy, whatever it may be in the Army, is a
simple affair. You are first sent for by the Master-at-Arms, who
glares, thrusts papers into your trembling hand and ejects you
violently in the direction of the Demobilising Office. Here they
regard you curiously, stifle a yawn, languidly inspect your papers and
send you to the Paymaster, who, after wandering disconsolately round
the Pay Office, exclaiming pathetically, "I say, hasn't _anyone_ seen
that Mixed Muster book? It must be _somewhere_, you know," returns you
without thanks to the D.O., where they tell you to call again in three
days' time. On returning you are provided with a P.I.O. and numerous
necessary papers, requested to sign a few dozen forms, overwhelmed
with an unexpected _largesse_ of pay and sent forth on that
twenty-eight days' leave from which no traveller returns. There's
nothing in it at all; the whole thing only lasts four days. They do it
by a system, I believe.

As we assembled on board for the last time, awaiting our railway
warrants, there were some moving spectacles. The Mate and the
Second-Engineer were bidding each other affectionate and tearful
farewells behind the winch. "You won't quite forget me, Bill, will
yer?" I heard the Second exclaim brokenly, but the only reply was a
strangled sob. The Steward, seated on his kit-bag, was murmuring a
snatch of song that asserted the rather personal fact that "our gel's
a big plump lass." He is an oyster-dredger in civil life and is
eagerly looking forward to experiencing once more the delicate thrills
and excitement of this hazardous sport. Jones, our Signaller, who
recently wrote a poem which opened with the lines,

"I for one will be surprised
When we are demobilised,"

was struggling painfully to insert a pair of boots into a recalcitrant
kit-bag, and exhibited an expression of dogged determination rather
than the astonishment he had predicted. The Trimmer was heard
complaining mournfully that when he left the Patrol Office for the
last time they never said good-bye. He seemed to feel this keenly.

All of us were more or less excited, all as it were on tip-toe with
expectancy, like school-boys on breaking-up morning. All, did I say?
No, there was one member of the crew who sat supremely indifferent to
the prevailing atmosphere of emotion, gazing cal