e did not object to
laughing at others.

"Well, what are they?" she asked indignantly. "What are they?"

"Pigs;" replied the Captain with a grave face, but there was a sly
twinkle of his left eye approaching to a wink. "Those are pigs, missy."

"I don't believe it," cried the young lady in a pet, putting up her
shoulders in high disdain. "You're only making fun of me!"

"Hush, dearie, you mustn't be rude," said Mrs Gilmour reprovingly; "but
sure, Captain, you shouldn't make game of the child."

"I assure you, I'm not doing so, ma'am," he protested, chuckling though
still with much enjoyment. "I've only told her the simple truth. They
_are_ pigs, sea-pigs if you like, commonly called porpoises. But,
whales, by Jove, that's a good joke, ho-ho-ho!"

This time Nellie laughed too, the old sailor seemed to enjoy her mistake
with such gusto; and, harmony being thus restored, they all turned to
watch the graceful motions of the animals that had caused the
discussion, which, swimming abreast of the vessel, were ever and anon
darting across her bows and playing round her, describing the most
beautiful curves as they dived under each other, apparently indulging in
a game of leap-frog.

The _Bembridge Belle_ was now just about midway between Southsea and
Seaview, and close upon the buoy marking the spot where the old _Marie
Rose_, the first big ship of our embryo navy, sank in the reign of bluff
King Hal, in an action she had with a French squadron that attempted
entering the Solent with the idea of capturing the Isle of Wight. The
`mounseers,' as the Captain explained to Bob, were beaten off in the
battle and most of their vessels captured, a result owing largely to the
part played by the gallant _Marie Rose_; though, sad be it to relate,
while resisting all the efforts made by the enemy to carry her by the
board, being somewhat top-heavy, "she `turned the turtle' at the very
moment when her guns were brought to bear a-starboard, to give a final
broadside to the French admiral and settle the action, the poor thing
then incontinently sinking to the bottom, where her bones yet lie."

"Not far-off either," continued the Captain, "the _Royal George_ also
foundered in the last century, with over nine hundred hands, there being
a lot of shore folk in the ship beside her crew. Her Admiral,
Kempenfeldt, was also on board, and--"

"Yes," said Mrs Gilmour, interrupting him; "and, sure, there's a pretty
little poem my favou