hobble ashore on crutches; but from a hale, hearty man, with bronzed
cheeks, he was become a mere dislocated skeleton, white as foam; but
ere this, perhaps, his broken bones are healed and whole in the last
repose of the man-of-war's-man.

Not many days after Baldy's accident in furling sails--in this same
frenzied manner, under the stimulus of a shouting officer--a seaman
fell from the main-royal-yard of an English line-of-battle ship near
us, and buried his ankle-bones in the deck, leaving two indentations
there, as if scooped out by a carpenter's gouge.

The royal-yard forms a cross with the mast, and falling from that lofty
cross in a line-of-battle ship is almost like falling from the cross of
St. Paul's; almost like falling as Lucifer from the well-spring of
morning down to the Phlegethon of night.

In some cases, a man, hurled thus from a yard, has fallen upon his own
shipmates in the tops, and dragged them down with him to the same
destruction with himself.

Hardly ever will you hear of a man-of-war returning home after a
cruise, without the loss of some of her crew from aloft, whereas
similar accidents in the merchant service--considering the much greater
number of men employed in it--are comparatively few.

Why mince the matter? The death of most of these man-of-war's-men lies
at the door of the souls of those officers, who, while safely standing
on deck themselves, scruple not to sacrifice an immortal man or two, in
order to show off the excelling discipline of the ship. And thus do
_the people_ of the gun-deck suffer, that the Commodore on the poop may
be glorified.

CHAPTER XLVII.

AN AUCTION IN A MAN-OF-WAR.

Some allusion has been made to the weariness experienced by the
man-of-war's-men while lying at anchor; but there are scenes now and
then that serve to relieve it. Chief among these are the Purser's
auctions, taking place while in harbour. Some weeks, or perhaps months,
after a sailor dies in an armed vessel, his bag of clothes is in this
manner sold, and the proceeds transferred to the account of his heirs
or executors.

One of these auctions came off in Rio, shortly after the sad accident
of Baldy.

It was a dreamy, quiet afternoon, and the crew were listlessly lying
'around, when suddenly the Boatswain's whistle was heard, followed by
the announcement, "D'ye hear there, fore and aft? Purser's auction on
the spar-deck!"

At the sound, the sailors sprang to their feet and must