deepened it, till his
cheeks and throat are almost copper-coloured; somewhat lighter in tint
upon Sundays, after they have had their hebdomadal shave. His face is
round, with features fairly regular, and of cheerful cast, their
cheerfulness heightened by the sparkle of keen grey eyes, and two rows
of sound white teeth, frequently, if not continuously shown in smile. A
thick shock of curling brown hair, with a well-greased ringlet drooping
down over each eyebrow, supports a round-rimmed, blue-ribboned hat, well
aback on his head. His shaven chin is pointed and prominent, with a
dimple below the lip; while the beardless jaws curve smoothly down to a
well-shaped neck, symmetrically set upon broad shoulders, that give
token of strength almost herculean. Notwithstanding an amplitude of
shirt-collar, which falls back full seven inches, touching the
shoulder-tips, the throat and a portion of the expansive chest are
habitually exposed to view; while on the sun-browned skin of the latter
may be seen a tattooed anchor. By its side, but not so openly
exhibited, is the figure of a damsel done in dark blue--no doubt a
souvenir, if not the exact similitude, of a sweetheart--some Poll of
past time, or perhaps far-off port.

But there is a doubt whether Harry's heart has been true to her.
Indeed, a suspicion of its having been false cannot fail to strike any
one seeing him with his shirt-sleeves rolled up, since upon the flat of
his right fore-arm is the image of another damsel, done more recently,
in lighter blue, while on the left is a Cupid holding an unbent bow, and
hovering above a pair of hearts, which his arrow has just pierced,
impaling them through and through!

All those amorous emblems would seem to argue our true tar inconstant as
the wind, with which he has so oft to contend. But no, nothing of the
kind. Those well acquainted with him and his history can vouch for it,
that he has never had a sweetheart save one--she represented in that
limning of light blue; and to her he has been true as steel, up to the
hour of her death, which occurred just as she was about to become Mrs
Blew.

And that sad event has kept him a bachelor up to the present hour of his
life. For the girl on his breast in dark blue is a merely mythical
personage, though indelibly stained into his skin by a needle's point
and a pinch of gunpowder--done by one of his man-o'-war shipmates while
he was still only a sailor-lad.

He is now forty yea