The advantages of temperance are nowadays well recognized by the men themselves in the royal navy; but in those times it was nothing unusual to find the men come off in the liberty-boat "fechtin' fou," as Dr. Reikie called it—that is, to put it plain, "fighting drunk." Sometimes they had to be put in irons on account of their violence. This was not perhaps so much owing to the amount they disposed of as to the vile nature of the stuff they drank.
When Midshipman Jack was one day sent on shore with a boat's crew and some letters at Alexandria, he felt himself a very important officer indeed. He had orders also to make a call and wait for a reply, but to be off again within two hours. He got down to his boat in plenty of time, singing to himself. He sang another song, though, when he found only one man at the boat.
He lowered his brows, and demanded to know where the others were.
"Only gone up to drink the Queen's health, God bless her!" said Paddy O'Rayne.
"But I gave them strict orders not to leave the boat."
"Bhoys will be bhoys, yer honor. But if you'll stand by her head here, sorr, troth I'll bring them all in a minute."
Away went Paddy.
In an hour's time, and when Jack was almost in tears, down came two men—they were singing. Then came Paddy—he was reeling. Then two more—one with a black eye. Jack would wait no longer, but shoved off.
Three times did the stroke oar catch a crab; the third time he couldn't get up, and Paddy took his place.
In order to get alongside safely and gracefully, he made a kind of admiral's sweep, much to the amusement of Dr. Reikie and Lieutenant Sturdy, who were both on the quarter-deck.