h assistant surgeon, who
sat opposite to the president, a man whose grizzled hair showed that he
had been long in the service.

"Where did you get those clothes from?" asked a young gentleman, whom I
afterwards found to be the purser's clerk.

"He picked them up at a theatrical property shop as he passed through
Cork," remarked another.

"Haul in the slack of your impudence," cried the president, whose favour
I had won. "If his friends had never seen a naval uniform, how should
they know how to rig him out?"

"I'm mightily obliged to you, sir," I said, for I was by this time
getting heartily ashamed of my gay feathers; "and as the ship won't be
sailing yet, I hope to get fitted out properly before I return on
board."

"All right, youngster," said the president. "Now, I will have the
pleasure of helping you to a slice of mutton. Hand the greens and
potatoes up to Paddy Finn."

The plate was passed round to me, and I was allowed, without being
further bantered, to discuss the viands placed under my nose, which I
did with a good appetite. I was not silent, however, but introducing my
journey to Cork, amused my messmates with an account of the various
incidents which had occurred. When, at length, one of the midshipmen
who had being doing duty on deck appeared at the door to say that Major
McMahon was about to return on shore, and wanted his nephew, my new
friends shook me warmly by the hand, and the president again proposed
three hearty cheers for their new messmate, Paddy Finn.

CHAPTER FIVE.

I MAKE THE ACQUAINTANCE OF ONE OF MY NEW MESSMATES.

I was in much better spirits when I rejoined my uncle than when I had
been led below by Mr Saunders. I found him standing with the captain
on the main-deck, they having just come out of the cabin.

"I should like to take a turn round the ship before we leave her, in
case I should be unable to pay you another visit," said the major. "I
wish to brush up my recollections of what a frigate is like."

"Come along then," answered the captain, and he led the way along the
deck.

As we got forward, we heard loud roars of laughter and clapping of
hands. The cause was very evident, for there was Larry in the midst of
a group of seamen, dancing an Irish jig to the tune of one of his most
rollicksome songs.

"Stop a bit, my boys, and I'll show you what real music is like," he
exclaimed after he had finished the song. "Wait till I get my fiddle
among yer, and I'l