d give me leave to tell you such will not do here; but you will
accompany me to the Captain-General, and we shall then see whether you
will answer or not.

Ay, we shall see indeed. Why, look ye, Monsieur: as to what I have been
about, that is nothing to anybody. I am an honest man, and that's enough
for you; but if you want to know why I am come here, it is to buy
provisions and to lie quiet a little bit. I am not come to beg or steal,
but to buy, and I fancy good bills upon M--- of Salem will suit you very
well, eh, Monsieur? Convenient enough?

Off.: Very well, Sir, you will come with us to the General.

To the General? I have nothing to do with Generals! They don't understand
my business. Suppose I don't go?

Off.: You will do as you please, Sir; but if you do not, you will
soon..."

The sheet on which the continuation of this vigorous bit of dialogue was
written* is unfortunately missing, so that we are deprived of the joy of
reading the conclusion of the comedy. But as the passage stands it
presents a truly dramatic picture. (* Manuscript, Mitchell Library.)

We get a glimpse of the way in which genial spirits regarded him in a
jolly letter from Madras, from Lieutenant Fitzwilliam Owen, who had been
a prisoner with him in Mauritius, and was on the cartel on which he
sailed from that island. "You cannot doubt how much our society misses
you. We toasted you, Sir, like Englishmen. We sent the heartiest good
wishes of your countrymen, ay, and women too, to Heaven for your success,
in three times three loud and manly cheers, dictated by that sincerity
which forms the glorious characteristic of our rough-spun English. Nay,
Waugh got drunk for you, and the ladies did each take an extra glass to
you."* (* Flinders' Papers.)

A pleasant playful touch makes the following letter to his wife's
half-sister worth quoting. He was hungry for home letters in
Ile-de-France, and thus gently chid the girl: "There is indeed a report
among the whales in the Indian Ocean that a scrap of a letter from you
did pass by for Port Jackson, and a flying fish in the Pacific even says
he saw it; but there is no believing these travellers. If you will take
the trouble to give it under your own hand I will then believe that you
have written to me. A certain philosopher being informed that his dear
friend was dead, replied that he would not believe it without having it
certified under his own hand; a very commendable prudence this, and
worth