omen just in the
same way that licentious priests lay the blame of the disrespect with
which parsons are treated on the irreligion of the laity."

"I don't understand either your wit or your manner, Frank," replied
Harry, giving a lurch in his chair; "but this I know, that I don't care
a handful of shakings for either of them; and I say still, that women
are all fireships--keep to windward of them--pretty things to try your
young gunners at; but, if you close with them, you're gone, that's all."

"I'll tell you what you're very like, just now, Harry," said Frank--who
had been pouring down glass after glass of wine, as if to quench his
anger--"you're just like a turkey cock after his head has been cut off,
which will keep stalking on in the same gait for several yards before he
drops."

"Elliot! do you mean to insult me?" cried Whitaker, springing furiously
from his seat.

"I leave that to the decision of your own incomparable judgment, sir,"
replied Elliot, bowing, with a sneer just visible on his features.

"If I thought so, Frank, I would----but it's impossible; you
are my oldest friend." And the young sailor sat down with a moody brow.

"What would you, sir?" said Elliot, in a tone of calm contempt; "bear
it meekly, I presume? Nay, do not look big, and clench your hands, sir,
unless, like Bob Acres, you feel your valour oozing out at your palms,
and are striving to retain it!"

"I'll tell you what, Elliot," cried the young sailor, again springing to
his feet, and seizing a decanter of wine by the neck, "I don't know what
prevents me from driving this at your head."

"It would be quite in keeping with the rest of your gentlemanly conduct,
sir," replied Frank, still keeping his seat, and looking at Harry with
the most cool and provoking derision; "but I'll tell you why you
don't--you dare not!"

"But that you are Harriet Elliot's brother"----began Harry,
furiously.

"Scoundrel!" thundered Elliot, rising suddenly, and making a stride
towards the young sailor, while the veins of his brow protruded like
lines of cordage; "utter that name again, before me, with these
blasphemous lips"----

Elliot had scarce, however, let fall the opprobrious epithet, ere the
decanter flew, with furious force, from Whitaker's hand, and, narrowly
missing Frank's head, was shivered on the wall beyond.

In a moment the young sailor was in the nervous grasp of Frank, who,
apparently without the slightest exertion of his vast stre