“To be sure it is,” replied the other; “why the captain gave a youngster five dozen the other day for wearing a scarlet watch-riband.”
“’Pon my soul I pity you: you’ll be fagged to death; for there’s only three midshipmen in the ship now—all the rest ran away. Didn’t they, Robinson?”
“There’s only two left now:— for poor Matthews died of fatigue. He was worked all day, and kept watch all night for six weeks, and one morning he was found dead upon his chest.”
“God bless my soul!” cried I, “and yet, on shore, they say he is such a kind man to his midshipmen.”
“Yes,” replied Robinson, “he spreads that report everywhere. Come, sit down with us and take a glass of grog; it will keep your spirits up.”
I am sorry to state that the midshipmen made me very tipsy that evening. I don’t recollect being put to bed, but I found myself there the next morning with a dreadful head-ache, and a very confused recollection of what had passed. I was very much shocked at my having so soon forgotten the injunctions of my parents, and was making vows never to be so foolish again, when in came the midshipman who had been so kind to me the night before. “Come, Mr Bottlegreen,” he bawled out, alluding, I suppose, to the colour of my clothes, “rouse and bitt. There’s the captain’s coxswain waiting for you below. By the powers, you’re in a pretty scrape for what you did last night!”
“Did last night!” replied I, astonished. “Why, does the captain know that I was tipsy?”
“I think you took devilish good care to let him know it when you were at the theatre.”
“At the theatre! was I at the theatre?”
“To be sure you were. You would go, do all we could to prevent you, though you were as drunk as David’s sow. Your captain was there with the admiral’s daughters. You called him a tyrant, and snapped your fingers at him. Why, don’t you recollect? You told him that you did not care a fig for him.”