third egg, for I still had a good appetite at breakfast.
"Bad enough!" repeated my father, "why you were extremely well fitted with every thing."
"Very true, Sir," said I; " but then you don't know what a man-of-war is in clearing for action; every thing not too hot or too heavy is chucked overboard with as little ceremony as I swallow this muffin. 'Whose hat-box is this?' 'Mr. Spratt's, Sir... 'D—n Mr. Spratt, I'll teach him to keep his hat-box safe another time; over with it—and away it went over the lee gang-way. Spratt's father was a hatter in Bond-street, so we all laughed."
"And pray, Frank," said my mother, ' did your box go in the same way?"
"It kept company, I assure you. I watched them go astern, with tears in my eyes, thinking how angry you would be."
"Well, but the chest, Frank, what became of the chest? You said that the Vangals had
