ng object of a youngster, whose friends had sent
him to sea with the hopes of improving his stamina.

"What for?--why, for my supper if you must know. D'ye think I _look too
fat_? I stowed it away before I went on deck, that it might not fall
into your ravenous maw."

"Mind your stops, my Jack of the Bonehouse, or I shall shy a biscuit at
your head."

"Do, and prove your bravery; it will be so very courageous. I suppose
you will expect to be gazetted for it."

The youngster who had been dignified with the above sobriquet, and who
made these replies, was certainly a most miserable-looking object, and
looked as if a top-gallant breeze would have blown him to atoms. But if
his body was weak, his tongue was most powerful. He resorted to no
other weapon, and used that skilfully. He was a species of Thersites,
and no dread of punishment could control his railing. He offered no
resistance, but bent down like the reed, and resumed his former position
as soon as the storm was over. His keen and sarcastic remarks, although
they occasionally subjected him to chastisement, to a certain degree
served him as a defence, for he could always raise a laugh at the
expense of the individual whom he attacked, with the formidable weapon
which he had inherited direct from his mother.

The oldster before mentioned put his hand into the breadbasket, and
seized a handful of the biscuit. "Now I'll bet you a glass of grog that
you don't throw a biscuit at my head," cried Jerry, with a sneer.

"Done," replied the oldster, throwing the contents of his hand at Jerry
with all his force.

"I'll just trouble you for that glass of grog, for you've lost," said
the youngster, taking it up from the table where it stood, before the
oldster; "you've only thrown some pieces, and not a biscuit;" and
following up his words with deeds, he swallowed down the whole contents
of the tumbler, which he replaced very coolly before his opponent.

"Fair bet, and fairly lost," cried the rest of the berth, laughing.

"You scarecrow! you're not worth thrashing," said the oldster, angrily.

"Why, that's exactly what I have been trying to impress upon your memory
ever since I have joined the ship. There's no credit to be gained by
licking a half-starved wretch like I am; but there's Bruce, now,"
(pointing to one of the oldsters, between whom and his opponent a
jealousy subsisted), "why don't you lick him? There would be some
credit in that. But you know