ough to make 'em out, you'll
see little letters _above_ the MDSF which make the words I've just told
you, an' there are little letters _below_ the MDSF which make the words
Mighty Deliverer, Saviour, Friend."

"Ay! That's a clever dodge," observed Groggy Fox, who, it need hardly
be said, was more impressed with the ingenuity of the device than with
the grand truth conveyed.

"But I say, mate, they seems to be uncommonly lively aboard of her."

This was obviously the case, for by that time the boat of the
_Cormorant_ had come so near to the vessel that they could not only
perceive the actions of those on board, but could hear their voices.
The curiosity of Skipper Fox and his men was greatly roused, for they
felt convinced that the mere visit of a passing mission ship did not
fully account for the vigorous hand-shakings of those on the deck, and
the hearty hailing of newcomers, and the enthusiastic cheers of some at
least of the little boats' crews as they pulled alongside.

"Seems to me as if they've all gone mad," remarked Groggy Fox, with a
sarcastic grin.

"I would say they was all drunk, or half-seas over," observed the mate,
"if it was a _coper_, but in a Gospel ship that's impossible, 'cause
they're teetotal, you know. Isn't that the boat o' the Admiral that's
pullin' alongside just now, skipper?"

"Looks like it, mate. Ay, an' that's Stephen Lockley of the _Lively
Poll_ close astarn of 'im--an' ain't they kickin' up a rumpus now!"

Fox was right, for when the two little boats referred to ranged
alongside of the vessel, and the men scrambled up the side on to her
deck, there was an amount of greeting, and hand-shaking, and exclaiming
in joyful surprise, which threw all previous exhibitions in that way
quite into the shade, and culminated in a mighty cheer, the power of
which soft people with shore-going throats and lungs and imaginations
cannot hope to emulate or comprehend!

The cheer was mildly repeated with mingled laughter when the crowd on
deck turned to observe the arrival of the _Cormorant's_ boat.

"Why, it's the skipper o' the _Ironclad_!" exclaimed a voice. "No, it's
not. It's the skipper o' the _Cormorant_," cried another.

"What cheer? what cheer, Groggy Fox?" cried a third, as the boat swooped
alongside, and several strong arms were extended. "Who'd have looked
for _you_ here? There ain't no schnapps."

"All right, mates," replied Fox, with an apologetic smile, as he
alighted on th