he could find, for christening a baby. Much
disappointed, Paul returned to his shipmates. In full conclave,
therefore, it was settled, with poor Will Freeborn's consent, that as
soon as the ship reached Port Royal harbour, in Jamaica, the little
fellow should be taken on shore to be christened all shipshape and
properly. When the Captain heard of this, he gave his full consent to
the arrangement, and promised to assist in its execution.

The flag of the gallant Sir Peter Parker was flying in the harbour of
Port Royal when, after a long passage, the _Terrible_ fired the usual
salute on entering, and dropped her anchor there. Two or three days
elapsed before the duty of the ship would allow any of the crew to go on
shore. On the first Sunday morning, however, it was notified that a
hundred of them might have six hours' leave, and that if the infant was
presented, after morning service, before the minister of one of the
parish churches, he would perform the wished-for ceremony. Great were
the preparations which had been made. Betty Snell and Nancy Bolton were
dressed out with shawls, and furbelows, and ribbons of the gayest
colours and patterns, and looked and thought themselves very fine.
Nothing could surpass the magnificence of the child's robe. All the
knowledge of embroidery possessed by the whole ship's company had been
expended on it, and every chest and bag had been ransacked to find
coloured beads and bits of silk and worsted and cotton of different hues
to work on it. The devices were curious. There were anchors and cables
twisting about all over it, and stars and guns, and there was a
full-rigged ship in front; while a little straw hat, which had been
plaited and well lined, was stuck on the child's head in the most
knowing of ways, with the name of the _Terrible_ worked in gold letters
on a ribbon round it. Certainly, however, nothing could be more
inappropriate than the name to the little smiling infant thus adorned.
Never had such a dress been worn before by any baby ashore or afloat.

Then his shipmates took care that Will Freeborn himself should be in
unusually good trim, and they got him to let Nancy Bolton dress his
pigtail, while Sergeant Bolton stood by, and got him into conversation;
and as for Paul Pringle, he turned out in first-rate style, and so did
two of Freeborn's messmates and especial chums, Peter Ogle and Abel
Bush, both first-rate seamen. All the men who had leave, indeed, rigged