abin, where we shall find the lieutenant who
commands her, a master's mate, and a midshipman. They have each their
tumbler before them, and are drinking gin-toddy, hot, with sugar--
capital gin, too, 'bove proof; it is from that small anker standing
under the table. It was one that they forgot to return to the
custom-house when they made their last seizure. We must introduce them.

The elderly personage, with grizzly hair and whiskers, a round pale
face, and a somewhat red nose (being too much in the wind will make the
nose red, and this old officer is very often "in the wind," of course,
from the very nature of his profession), is a Lieutenant Appleboy. He
has served in every class of vessel in the service, and done the duty of
first-lieutenant for twenty years; he is now on promotion--that is to
say, after he has taken a certain number of tubs of gin, he will be
rewarded with his rank as commander. It is a pity that what he takes
inside of him does not count, for he takes it morning, noon, and night.
He is just filling his fourteenth glass; he always keeps a regular
account, as he never exceeds his limited number, which is seventeen;
then he is exactly down to his bearings.

The master's mate's name is Tomkins; he has served his six years three
times over, and has now outgrown his ambition; which is fortunate for
him, as his chances of promotion are small. He prefers a small vessel
to a large one, because he is not obliged to be so particular in his
dress--and looks for his lieutenancy whenever there shall be another
charity promotion. He is fond of soft bread, for his teeth are all
absent without leave; he prefers porter to any other liquor, but he can
drink his glass of grog, whether it be based upon rum, brandy or the
liquor now before him.

Mr Smith is the name of that young gentleman whose jacket is so out at
the elbows; he has been intending to mend it these last two months; but
is too lazy to go to his chest for another. He has been turned out of
half the ships in the service for laziness; but he was born so--and
therefore it is not his fault. A revenue-cutter suits him, she is half
her time hove to; and he has no objection to boat-service, as he sits
down always in the stern-sheets, which is not fatiguing. Creeping for
tubs is his delight, as he gets over so little ground. He is fond of
grog, but there is some trouble in carrying the tumbler so often to his
mouth; so he looks at it, and lets it st