not fit to be first of an active frigate. The second
lieutenant is a regular-built sailor, and knows his duty well, but he is
fond of mast-heading the youngsters when they think they do not deserve
it. The third lieutenant would be a sailor if he knew how to set about it;
he generally begins at the wrong end, and is always making stern way,
but," said he, "he almost prays as good a stick as the skipper. As for the
other officers, we have not so much to do with them as with those I have
described. However," added he, "there is one more--I mean the purser: he is
a complete nip-cheese, and as for his steward, he ought to have swung at
the fore-yard arm long ago." "There is one more question I have to ask,"
said I, "which is, what sort of young gentlemen are the midshipmen?"
"Why," replied he, "two of what you term young gentlemen are old enough to
be your father, but take them in a lump they are not so bad; four of them
are about your age, and full of fun and frolic. Now," said he, "it's time
to be off." He beckoned to a seaman near the door, who, I found, was the
coxswain of the cutter. "Take this officer's chest to the boat." Here the
waiter interposed, and said it was customary for the waterman of the "Blue
Postesses" to take packages down to the water side. To this I consented,
and away we trotted to sally port where the boat was lying. On our arrival
at the stairs, I found another midshipman about my own age, who had been
left in charge of the boat's crew during the other's absence. He eyed me
obliquely; then turning to the elder, "I thought," said he, "you would
never come. I have been so bothered during the time you were away by three
of the men's confounded trulls, who wanted me to give them a passage off,
that every five minutes appeared an hour, and I have only this moment got
rid of them." "Never mind, my boy," said the other, "let's shove off."

Passing round a point, going out of the harbour, I observed a gibbet with
part of a human skeleton hanging on it. "You are looking at the remains of
Jack the painter," said the elder midshipman to me. "Do you know his
history?" I answered in the negative. "Why," said he, "that burning rascal
set fire to the rope-house in the dockyard about the time you were born,
and there the gentleman's bones are rattling to the breeze as a warning to
others." The wind was blowing strong, and we were more than an hour before
we reached the frigate, which was lying at Spithead. My eyes du