yperken, who, with his hands in
his pocket, and his trumpet under his arm, looked unutterably savage.

"How dare you beat _my_ dog, you villain?" said the lieutenant at last,
choking with passion.

"He's a-bitten my leg through and through, sir," replied Smallbones,
with a face of alarm.

"Well, sir, why have you such thin legs, then?"

"'Cause I gets nothing to fill 'em up with."

"Have you not a herring there, you herring-gutted scoundrel? which, in
defiance of all the rules of the service, you have brought on his
Majesty's quarter-deck, you greedy rascal, and for which I intend--"

"It ar'n't my herring, sir, it be yours--for your breakfast--the only
one that is left out of the half-dozen."

This last remark appeared somewhat to pacify Mr Vanslyperken.

"Go down below, sir," said he, after a pause, "and let me know when my
breakfast is ready."

Smallbones obeyed immediately, too glad to escape so easily.

"Snarleyyow," said his master, looking at the dog, who remained on the
other side of the forecastle; "O Snarleyyow, for shame! Come here, sir.
Come here, sir, directly."

But Snarleyyow, who was very sulky at the loss of his anticipated
breakfast, was contumacious, and would not come. He stood at the other
side of the forecastle, while his master apostrophised him, looking him
in the face. Then, after a pause of indecision, he gave a howling sort
of bark, trotted away to the main hatchway, and disappeared below. Mr
Vanslyperken returned to the quarter-deck, and turned, and turned
as before.

Chapter II

Showing what became of the red-herring.

Smallbones soon made his re-appearance, informing Mr Vanslyperken that
his breakfast was ready for him, and Mr Vanslyperken, feeling himself
quite ready for his breakfast, went down below. A minute after he had
disappeared, another man came up to relieve the one at the wheel, who,
as soon as he had surrendered up the spokes, commenced warming himself
after the most approved method, by flapping his arms round his body.

"The skipper's out o' sorts again this morning," said Obadiah, after a
time. "I heard him muttering about the woman at the Lust Haus."

"Then, by Got, we will have de breeze," replied Jansen, who was a Dutch
seaman of huge proportions, rendered still more preposterous by the
multiplicity of his nether clothing.

"Yes, as sure as Mother Carey's chickens raise the gale, so does the
name of the Frau Vandersloosh. I'll be down and get my