ies; but it's all in the way o' trade,
so I don't grumble; the only thing as bothers me is that I can't git my
hat rightly on by reason of the bump.

"You've no cause to complain--neither of ye," said Tom Riggles, whose
left hand was tied up and in a sling, "for you've lost nothin' but a
little blood an' a bit o' skin, whereas I've lost the small finger o' my
right hand."

"Not much to boast of, that," said Ben Bolter contemptuously; "why, just
think of poor Ned Summers havin' lost an arm and Edwards a leg--not to
mention the poor fellows that have lost their lives."

"A finger is bad enough," growled Tom.

"Well, so it is," said Bowls. "By the way, I would advise you to try a
little of that wonderful salve invented by a Yankee for such cases."

"Wot salve wos that?" asked Tom gruffly, for the pain of his wound was
evidently pretty severe.

"Why, the growin' salve, to be sure," replied Bill. "Everybody must
have heard of it."

"_I_ never did," said Tom. "Did you, Ben?"

"No, never; wot is it?"

"It's a salve for growin' on lost limbs," said Bill. "The Yankee tried
it on a dog that had got its tail cut off. He rubbed a little of the
salve on the end of the dog, and a noo tail grow'd on next mornin'!"

"Gammon!" ejaculated Tom Riggles.

"True, I assure ye, as was proved by the fact that he afterwards rubbed
a little of the salve on the end of the tail, and a noo dog growed on it
in less than a week!"

"H'm! I wonder," said Tom, "if he was to rub some of it inside o' your
skull, whether he could grow you a noo set o' brains."

"I say, Bill," interposed Ben Bolter, "did you hear the first lieutenant
say where he intended to steer to?"

"I heard somethin' about Gibraltar, but don't know that he said we was
goin' there. It's clear, hows'ever, that we must go somewhere to refit
before we can be of any use."

"Ay; how poor Captain Ward would have chafed under this delay!" said
Bill Bowls sadly. "He would have been like a caged tiger. That's the
worst of war; it cuts off good and bad men alike. There's not a captain
in the fleet like the one we have lost, Nelson alone excepted."

"Well, I don't know as to that," said Ben Bolter; "but there's no doubt
that Admiral Nelson is the man to lick the French, and I only hope that
he may find their fleet, and that I may be there to lend a hand."

"Ditto," said Bill Bowls.

"Do," added Tom Riggles.

Having thus expressed their sentiments, the three friends