fied that he was something of an expert at his job.
In short, he was a Leading Signalman of His Majesty's Navy. His name I
need not mention. To his friends he sometimes answered to "Nutty," but
more often to "Buntin'."

It was always a mystery to me why he had not come to wear the crossed
anchors and crown of a Yeoman of Signals, for his qualifications
certainly seemed to fit him for promotion to petty-officer's rank,
while his habits and character in the last ship in which I knew him
were all that could be desired.

It was on board a destroyer that I came to know him really well, and
here his work was onerous and responsible. He had his mate, a callow
youth who was usually sea-sick in bad weather, and at sea they took 4
hours' turn and turn about on the bridge, each keeping 12 hours' watch
out of the twenty-four. But the elder man always seemed to be within
sight and hearing, even in his watch below; and the moment anything
unusual happened, the moment flags started flapping in the breeze,
semaphores started to talk, the younger man became rattled and
helpless, and things generally started to go wrong, all at the same
moment, "Nutty" came clambering up the ladder to the assistance of his
bewildered colleague.

"Call yerself a signalman!" he would growl ferociously. "Give us the
glass, an' look sharp an' 'oist the answerin' pendant. You ain't fit
to be trusted up 'ere!"

It is to be feared that the youthful one sometimes found his life a
misery and a burden, for his mentor was a strict disciplinarian and did
not hesitate to bully and goad him into a state of proper activity.
But the youngster needed it badly.

"Nutty" seemed to be blessed with the eyes of a lynx, the dexterity of
a conjurer, and the tentacles of a decapod. He invariably saw a
floating mine, a buoy, or a lightship long before the man whose proper
work it was to see it, and at sea, with a telescope to his eye, I often
saw him apparently taking in two signals from opposite points of the
compass at one and the same moment, with the ship rolling heavily and
sheets of spray flying over the bridge.

Somewhere at Portsmouth he had a wife and two children, whom he saw, if
he was lucky, for perhaps seven days every six months. Of his domestic
affairs I knew little; but, judging from his letters, which were
frequent and voluminous and had to pass through the hands of the ship's
censor, he was devoted to his wife and family. I hope they loved him.