of the audience,
they were neither amused nor instructed.

"'E must be wet if 'e thinks we liken listenin' to this 'ere stuff!"
muttered Able Seaman McSweeny dismally. "'E talks abart 'is ruddy
merchant o' Venice, but I doesn't want to 'ear nothin' abart a....
Eyetalian shopkeeper. I expec's 'e was one o' these 'ere blokes wot
wheeled an ice-cream barrer. S'welp me I do!"

A loud titter greeted his utterance, and Commander Potvin stopped
reading for a moment, and glanced round with a fierce expression,
without being able to see whence the sounds of merriment emanated.

No, judging from the trite remarks from the men, the reading from the
works of England's most famous poet and playwright was not an
unqualified success.

On Thursday came the Captain's lecture on the effects of alcohol, at
which, to Pardoe's great astonishment, there was an unusually full
attendance. Even men belonging to the watch ashore were present, some
of them bringing friends from other ships with them.

The audience, suspicious at first, eventually became strangely
enthusiastic, loud cheering, much stamping on the deck, and even
shrieks and cat-calls completely drowning the lecturer's voice for
moments at a time. The applause became more vociferous still when the
man attending the magic lantern inadvertently placed his hand on its
almost red-hot top, and interrupted the proceedings with a loud and
very startled: "Ow! The bloomin' thing's burnt me!"

Anyone but the Commander might have detected something sarcastic and
ironical in the excessive applause, but he, the possessor of a skin
like unto that of an armadillo, was very pleased with the reception of
his discourse.

"I told you I had an interesting subject," he said afterwards to the
First Lieutenant. "The hearty applause was very gratifying, and it is
wonderful how a little straight talk goes down with the men."

"I only hope my lecture will be an equal success, sir," answered
Pardoe, rather at a loss what to say.

His subject was "Cities of Ancient Greece."

But at last came the time when the _Puffin_ was ordered to sea, and at
8.30 on that fateful morning the gunboat, with her gallant commander
standing on the poop in the attitude of Sir Francis Drake starting on
his circumnavigation of the world, paddled gently down the crowded
harbour and out through the Lye-mun pass. It was in this narrow
passage that they had their altercation with a lumbering Chinese junk
tacking slo