rated us to the distance of twenty or thirty yards, when one of them called to me in a voice evidently cracked in His Majesty's service—
"Hollo, young gentleman, come back here." I concluded I was going to be complimented on the cut of my coat, to be asked the address of my tailor, and to hear the rakish sit of my hat admired. I now began to think I should hear a contention between the lords of the ocean, as to who should have me as a sample-middy on their quarter decks; and I was even framing an excuse to my father's friend for not joining his ship. Judge then of my surprise and mortification, when I was thus accosted in an angry and menacing tone by the oldest of the officers—
"Pray, Sir, what ship do you belong to?"
"Sir," said I, proud to be thus interrogated, "I belong to His Majesty's ship, the Le ,"
(having a French name, I clapped on both the French and English articles, as being more impressive. )
"Oh, you do, do you?" said the veteran,
