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A FLEET IN BEING
CHAP.

A BLISSFUL FORTNIGHT

This and more—oh! much more—did my friends fore and aft convey to me in that blissful fortnight when I was privileged to watch their labours. I heard, undilutedly, what a boy thinks of punishment and the man who reported him for it; how a carpenter regards a Dockyard 'matey,' what are the sentiments of a signaller towards an Admiral and of a stoker towards the Authorities who have designed his washing accommodation. I overheard in the darkness of beautiful nights, fragments of Greek drama from the forward flats which it s my life's regret that I cannot make public; lectures on all manner of curious things delivered by the ship's jester; and totally unveracious reports of conversations with superiors retailed by a delinquent Marine.

Fire and collision-drill, general quarters and the like take on new meaning when they are translated for you once, by the Head who orders them and again by the tail who carry them out. When you have been shown lovingly over a torpedo by an artificer skilled in the working of its tricky bowels, torpedoes have a meaning and a reality for you to the end of your days.


'MEN LIVE THERE'

Next time you see the 'blue' ashore you do not stare unintelligently. You have watched him on his native heath. You know what he eats, and what he says, and where he sleeps, and how. He is no