d as much
from him as from any one else.

The frigate and corvette sailed forward on their course across the
Atlantic, with every stitch of canvas they could carry set slow and
aloft. Two or three times they were totally becalmed, when the officers
of the two ships paid visits to each other. Murray, with Archy Gordon,
had come on board the _Plantagenet_.

"Well, Gordon, how do you get on aboard the corvette?" was the natural
question put by Tom.

"Vary weel, but we've much the same sort of thing to do every day;
washing and holy-stoning decks in the morning, and exercising at the
guns and mail arms in the forenoon, and studying navigation and
seamanship, and sic like," answered Archy.

"Faith, that's what we've to do here," said Gerald. "I came to sea to
enjoy some fun; but we've not had much of it yet, though, to be sure, we
lead a jolly life, take it all in all."

"The fun will come in time," observed Tom. "We never can tell what will
turn up--perhaps before long--who knows?"

Murray was with Jack and Terence in the gun-room.

"Well, and how does old Babbicome get on?" asked Jack.

"He is amusing enough, but not altogether satisfactory as a commander,"
answered Murray. "He and Haultaut are continually disputing, and he
never comes on deck without finding fault, at which Haultaut very
naturally sets up his back, and generally finishes by going below. The
commander seldom attempts to carry on duty, and that only in fine
weather, without making some egregious blunder, and he always excuses
himself by observing, `I don't admire the new-fangled ways you young men
have of doing things. We managed matters very differently on board the
old _Orion_, I can tell you,' or, as he walks up and down the deck
examining everything not in existence when he was last at sea, he
exclaims, `We'll change all this presently--it doesn't come up to my
notions; never saw thingumbobs fitted in this way before.' We have
eaten most of his sheep, as it was necessary to kill them for want of
provender; but if the rest live till we reach Madeira, he will, I
conclude, lay in a fresh supply. His pigs are, however, his great
delight. He gloats over them, and spends an hour every day in currying
them as he would a horse. They do him credit, for they are as sleek and
fat as poodles. Though he avows that he is fond of pork, I suspect that
he will never bring himself to order one of them to be slaughtered. To
his credit I must say tha