eks,
naturally, enlightened me on the subject; so that I was completely taken
by surprise when a loud voice hailed us from somewhere forward, just
about "four bells," as if coming from out of the sea.

"What ship is that?"

"The Silver Queen," answered Mr Saunders, who was on the poop and of
course in the joke, answering the voice, which although portentously
loud, had a familiar ring about it suspiciously like Tim Rooney's Irish
brogue. "Bound from London to Shanghai."

"Have ye minny of me unshaved sons aboard?"

"Aye, two," shouted back Mr Saunders, "a stowaway and an apprentice."

"Ye spake true," returned the voice. "I knows 'em both, Misther Allan
Gray-ham an' Joe Fergusson. I will come aboard an' shave 'em."

Then it all flashed upon me, and I tried to run below and hide; but two
of Neptune's tritons seized me and pushed me forward to where the
boatswain, capitally got up in an oakum wig with an enormous tow beard,
was seated on the windlass, trident in hand. Joe Fergusson, who had
been made prisoner before me, lay bound at his feet, close to an
improvised swimming bath made out of a spare fore-topsail, rigged up
across the deck on the lee-side and filled with water to the depth of
four feet or more.

The ceremonies were just about to begin; and, I could readily imagine
what was in store for both me and my companion in distress, the ex-
bricklayer, who, like myself, having never been to sea before would have
to go through the painful ordeal as well as being made fools of and
laughed at by all our grinning shipmates around; so, seeing Tom Jerrold
and Sam Weeks conspicuous right in front of me, and Mr Saunders looking
on too with much gusto, I made another desperate attempt to free myself
from those holding me, urging on Joe Fergusson to try and save himself
and me too.

Our struggles were in vain; but, strange to say, help came for us from a
most unexpected quarter.

As I have said before, the night had been extremely hot and the morning
lowering; and now, all at once, a violent squall caught the ship in the
midst of Neptune's carnival.

"Stand by your royal halliards!" roared out Captain Gillespie, who
coming up quickly behind Mr Saunders on the poop made him jump round in
consternation at his neglect in not keeping a look-out overhead while
watching the game going on in the bows amongst the crew.

Neptune darted down from his perch instanter in the most ungodlike
fashion; and, the rest of the m