ccasionally death-dealing mission against
him, in vain have immense shells exploded in his immediate
neighbourhood. Nothing, not even the ramming of one whole squadron
by another, has succeeded in daunting him. He has remained
immovable in the midst of an appalling explosion which reduced a
ship's company to a heap of toe-nails. And now, his mind fired by
the crash of conflict and the intoxication of almost universal
slaughter, he proposes to show the world how a naval novel that
means to be accurate as well as vivid, to be bought by the public
in thousands as well as to teach useful lessons to politicians and
sailors, ought really to be written. _Mr. Punch_ may as well state
that he has _not_ submitted this story to any naval experts. His
facts speak for themselves, and require no merely professional
approval to enhance their value.]

WHO'D BE A SAILOR?

(_A Story of Blood and Battle._)

CHAPTER I.

[Illustration: The Explosion.]

Listen, my Grandchildren! for you are mine, not indeed by the ridiculous
accident of birth (since to speak the truth I am an unmarried old
sea-dog), but by the far higher and more honourable title of having been
selected by me to hear this yarn. You know well enough that such a tale
_must_ be told to grandchildren, and since you undoubtedly possessed
grandparents, and have been hired at a shilling an hour to listen to me, I
have every right to address you as I did. Therefore I say, my
grandchildren, attend to what I am about to relate. You who live under the
beneficent sway of the mighty Australo-Canado-Africo-Celto-Americo-Anglian
Federation of Commonwealths, can have no notion of the degraded conditions
under which I, your grandfather, and the rest of my miserable
fellow-countrymen lived fifty years ago in the year 1892. Naturally you
have read no books of history referring to any date anterior to 1902. The
wretched records of ignorance, slavery and decrepitude have been justly
expunged from your curriculum. Let me tell you then that a little country
calling itself the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland at that time
arrogated to itself the leadership of the mighty countries which you now
call your home. You smile and refer me to a large-sized map on which, as
you justly observe, this country occupies a space of not more than two
square inches. Your surprise is intelligible, but the melancholy fact
remains. All this has now