send my boy aft, and one of the 'party,' if you please, to pipe-clay my white pantaloons."

"Pass the word for'ard for the boy, Barnes," cried the sergeant.

"Sing out there for Skillygalee-Jack," said a saucy top-man, hauling up the slack of his trowsers.

"Him mus'na come-him turning a pit," cried the captain's black cook, with that air of authority so peculiar to the sable race when in office.

From all outward signs, the boy certainly seemed better calculated to turn the spit, than ever to succeed in the higher walks of the profession; and, so far, the intuitive instinct of the savage at the coppers, proved a better guide in determining the bent, and perhaps, capabilities, of the ill-starred urchin, than the more aspiring pretensions of his affectionate parents; who, very judiciously, as it had been whispered, sent him to sea to learn manners. The first week, however, he had instinctively discovered the galley to be his province. Here, by a total negligence of his person, (notwithstanding the inspection and drill, to which boys are subject in the service twice-a-day,) and a ready acquiescence in the various drudgeries imposed by his black superior, he had become a domiciled favourite; and his services frequently preferred to those of youths less ambitious. And here a reflection may suggest itself, on the prevailing taste in officers of the navy for African attendants. It has been the fashion ever since the days of Benbow-no inglorious epoch, by-the-by. Were we in the habit of hunting for something recherchè, in the shape of a precedent, this practice with respect to poor Quamino, who, all the world knows, often proudly traces his lineage up to sable royalty itself, might be supposed to originate in the classical recollection, that the vainglorious Romans imagined their voluptuous dainties acquired a higher relish when served up to table by royal captives. As to some of the "births" occupied on board by our Negro brethren, even the amiable Wilberforce himself might augur, that the appointment originated in hurnane feeling. But as to the cook, Jack uniformly and artlessly attributed it to the "Negur" being born in the

torrid zone, and therefore better able by "natur" to bear the burning fervours of a galley-fire in the dog-days.

From reflections far less philosophical than the preceding, our lieutenant was aroused by hearing the bell strike

seven.

*

"What! Powers that be! is that seven bells ?-only half an hour to rig and run ashore.--Come, Lively," said he to his boy, who had reluctantly relinquished his post of honour to another youngster-" Come,--send the barber aft in a minute."

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Aye, aye, Sir," said the same loquacious top-man, who happened to be standing at the fore part of the steerage passage, and who appeared to be one of those "“ privileged men, or rather licensed wits, that may be found in every ship in the service."Pass the word there for 'Lathering Bob.'-Tell him to bear a hand aft: the second leaftenant wants his muzzle-lashing off in a crack.” "I'll muzzle you, Sir," said Burton, "if I hear any more of that sort of singing out about the decks ;" when, retiring to the gun-room, he continued, as he rummaged his pockets, "I say, steward, did you see my keys any where?—But it's ever the way when one 's in a hurry.— Come, Mister Purser, no tricks upon travellers ;— these sort of practical jokes are very well in a midshipman's birth;-besides, they are but a poor recompense for my performance of your duty."

"My duty!" replied the purser, in a cynical tone,"I'm on the doctor's list.-Some one must have taken the demand for beef on shore, or we should have had no fresh grub to have stopped your grumbling mouth."

"Pleaze, Sir, all the black'ng's out this week past,' interrupted Burton's domestic, drawling out his words monosyllabically.

This intelligence was quickly succeeded by another of almost as pleasing a nature.-The marine to whose fostering charge the lieutenant's holyday inexpressibles had been consigned, appeared at the gun-room door with a woful face, and, preluding with a scratch of the head, reported "The pantaloons, Sir, are rather out o' con

*Seven bells, half-past three.

dition. They must have been put by wet and got mildewed. Besides, Sir, here's an ugly blotch of port wine in front. I've been trying to coax it out with a little hot pipe-clay, but I can't come it. I was thinking, if so be, Sir, as you must wear 'em, that you'd better keep a small bit of pipe-clay in your pocket, and touch 'em now and again as soon as they gets dry enough; but you'd better let them be, till you gets in the wind."

"In the wind!--curse you, I believe you 're all in the wind."

Some one with hurried foot came tumbling down the after ladder, and announced, “Sir, there's a whift* flying ashore, and the first lieutenant thinks it for you."

The rapid announcement of one calamity after the other, (for calamities they must all be considered by a man in a hurry,) strongly reminded him of the perplexities of that pattern of patience mentioned in sacred history, and he resolved to bear all his misfortunes with the equanimity of his parallel; but unluckily this composure was destined to be short lived, for in his eagerness to expedite his dressing, he the next moment thrust his heel right through his stocking. The weight of his woes, aggravated by this additional interruption, overcame all his self-possession, and with a hearty imprecation he shouted out, "What next?-any more of Job's comforters ?"

Irritated as he was by these occurrences, what must have been the effect produced on his too sensitive ear by the report of a gun, or, as ladies would donominate it, a cannon from the shore? Another of the messengers alluded to, determined not to lose this too fortunate opportunity of trying his temper, "sung down" the sky-light, "Mr. Hasty says that's for you, Sir, and you'll be too late for dinner."

The report of the gun was echoed by a crash below, arising from the violent contact with the beams above of a boot-jack, which lay too conveniently close to the hand of the irritated lieutenant, as he hove it at the messenger's head, exclaiming, "and that's for you, young fellow."

* Whift.-An ensign tied up transversely, so as to fly folded up at the extremity nearest to the mast, or flag-staff."

The pantaloons were again exhibited, while Lively prostrated the tawney-coloured boots at his feet. This was too much for his philosophy. It was impossible, he thought, to make his appearance before the sex in suck shabby attire. Not a lawyer's clerk at assizes-not a barber's apprentice parading Hyde Park on a Sundayor a Jew rigged out on the shabbash in some of his best saleable second-hand clothes, thought he, but must appear more gay and debonair in the eyes of the sex.

"D

-n it," cried Hasty, opening the sky-light hatch, "you're as long bedizening as a bride, and all for that old buffer on the hill. One would think you were bracing up for a ball; or rigging out for a levee of syrens.-Come, better bear a hand, the people are going to supper presently, and then we won't be able to spare you a boat."

"Spare!" said Burton, "that's just like you; it's long before you'd spare one even a bottle of blacking, and when I do go on shore, (which is seldom enough,) I should like to support the character of the cloth."

But

"Well-rather than have a cannonading from the old boy's battery ashore, I'll rig you out to the nines. here we have it," continued Hasty, moving from the skylight, and pointing his glass out of one of the port-holes, in the direction of the cottage-"here we have it, for there comes the gunner with a red-hot poker."

Having so said, he despatched his servant for the necessary essentials for Burton, premising in a whisper-“ By no means let him have my best shore-going swab.'

This intimation given with respect to the poker, was no false alarm, for the conclusion of Hasty's speech was accompanied by a reverberation of echoes from the neighbouring hills, which sufficiently testified that much longer delay would be fatal to the festivities of the evening.

"What a provoking hurry!" cried Burton.

"On deck there!" cried the captain, through his skylight, which was usually kept open when the weather was fine "What guns are those firing?--Any thing in distress in the offing?"

"No, Sir!" replied Hasty, "only Mr. Burton in distress for time and togs-I 've relieved him from one embarrassinent-perhaps you'll extricate him from another.

and save time, by allowing the gig to land him. Indeed, it may be best for ourselves," added the first lieutenant, rather drily; " for the old gentleman ashore seems so peppery, I should'nt wonder if the next gun was shotted!"

"Come, Hasty," said the captain, "that's rather a wild conjecture-but it's not fair to taunt poor Burton'; he may yet have the laugh against you. Man the gig, and land him at once, and tell him to say something civil to the old gentleman for me."

With one spring from his cabin-door, on to the gunroom table; a vault upon deck, aided by the rim of the sky-light, he hastily descended the brig's side, and jumped into the boat, ere she had been completely manned. But his flight was not unattended by defeat; for the boat had hardly reached her destination half-way, when he thought he perceived the coxswain eyeing his dress with a significant look, as if he had detected his borrowed plumage. Why, coxswain," said Burton," you seem to be overhauling my rigging very closely, is there any thing amiss ?"

"I does n't exactly know, Sir; but it looks to me, Sir, as if you'd carried away the weather topping-lift of your trowsers the lee-leach, you see, Sir, is as slack as water." "Curse it, if I hav'n't carried away my braces springing up that infernal sky-light.--Back water your starboard oars--no, avast there-give way again--won't do to go back to the brig—I'll make shift with one o'yours."

"Mine, Sir!" said the coxswain, startled at the lieutenant's entertaining the idea that a sailor ever wore a suspender in his life-" Mine, Sir! I hope you don't take me for a soger, Sir! I never wants any thing to keep the eyes of my rigging from slipping down over the hounds o' the mast. But here's a bit o' rope yard in the bottom o' the boat."

"Why, Bill," said the bowman, "there's a piece of dry parcelling in the locker abaft, as 'ill make a good preventer-brace on a pinch."

"That's right, Jones," said the lieutenant, brightening up at the bowman's suggestion-" that's right, my man -put me in mind to-morrow to give you a glass of grog for the thought."