mate of the main-deck,
come up and seen what was going forward. "Why, man, what are you
about?" he exclaimed. "Please, sir, I be hanging the goat," was Billy's
reply.

"Hanging the goat! who told you to do that?" inquired Perigal.

"It was the first-lieutenant, sir. She knocked him over right flat on
the deck, and so he told me to go and hang her."

"Well, you are a precious--," exclaimed the old mate. "Let free the
beast, and thank your stars that you didn't hang her. The captain is a
wonderfully good-natured man, there can be no doubt of it; but even he
wouldn't have stood having his goat hung."

Of course I do not dress the language of my shipmates with the
expletives in which many of them were apt to indulge, when the use of
strange oaths and swearing of all descriptions was more common than even
at present, when the practice would be more honoured in the breach than
in the observance. One thing I must say, I never heard our gallant
captain utter an oath or abuse a man during the whole time I had the
happiness of serving under him, and a braver, more spirited, or more
sensible man never trod the deck of a man-of-war as her chief. His
memory is dear, not only to all those who served with him, but to all of
high or low degree who knew him during his long and glorious naval
career. His manners were mild and gentle--though he had an abundance of
humour and spirit. He could, however, when he thought it necessary,
speak with the gravest severity to a delinquent. I never saw any man
more cool and calm and thoughtful in action. It may truly be said of
him that in battle he was as brave as a lion, and in peace as gentle as
a lamb. I could not resist uttering this panegyric on our well-loved
captain.

To return to Billy Wise and the goat. The poor animal's life was saved,
though she had a strange way of stretching out her neck for some weeks
afterwards, and always gave Billy a wide berth when she encountered him
in her rambles about the decks.

When the captain heard the account, instead of being angry, he laughed
heartily, and added the story to his batch of anecdotes.

"I must do something with that poor fellow," he remarked. "He is not
fit to be made Lord Chief Justice, I fear."

It was not always plain sailing with me. Spellman and I were pretty
good friends, but he was somewhat inclined to play the bully. He was
called Miss Susan simply because he was as unlike a girl as a great
awkward gawky fe