the same reply: "Why, Jack, you were launched a few
months before the Druids were turned over to the Melpomene." I have
since ascertained that this remarkable event occurred in January 1787.
But my father always reckoned in this way: if you asked him when such an
event took place, he would reply, so many years or months after such a
naval engagement or remarkable occurrence; as, for instance, when I one
day inquired how many years he had served the King, he responded, "I
came into the sarvice a little afore the battle of Bunker's Hill, in
which we licked the Americans clean out of Boston[1]." As for Anno
Domini, he had no notion of it whatever.

[Footnote 1: I have since heard a different version of the result of
this battle.]

Who my grandfather was, I cannot inform the reader, nor is it, perhaps,
of much consequence. My father was a man who invariably looked forward,
and hated anything like retrospection: he never mentioned either his
father or his mother; perhaps he was not personally acquainted with
them. All I could collect from him at intervals was, that he served in a
collier from South Shields, and that a few months after his
apprenticeship was out, he found himself one fine morning on board of a
man-of-war, having been picked up in a state of unconsciousness, and
hoisted up the side without his knowledge or consent. Some people may
infer from this that he was at the time tipsy; he never told me so; all
he said was, "Why, Jack, the fact is when they picked me up I was quite
altogether _non pompus_." I also collected at various times the
following facts--that he was put into the mizzentop, and served three
years in the West Indies; that he was transferred to the maintop, and
served five years in the Mediterranean; that he was made captain of the
foretop, and sailed six years in the East Indies; and, at last, was
rated captain's coxswain in the "Druid" frigate, attached to the Channel
fleet cruising during the peace. Having thus condensed the genealogical
and chronological part of this history, I now come to a portion of it in
which it will be necessary that I should enter more into detail.

The frigate in which my father eventually served as captain's coxswain
was commanded by a Sir Hercules Hawkingtrefylyan, Baronet. He was very
poor and very proud, for baronets were not so common in those days. He
was a very large man, standing six feet high, and with what is termed a
considerable _bow-window_ in front; but a