Sailors, let me tell you reader, are far more hearty and as a rule better liked at ball or party than soldiers.
Sailors come and sailors go, but soldiers keep on for ever. The poor you have always with you. It is hardly fair of me to speak so perhaps, and I hope to be forgiven.
Well, the Breezy steamed up the East Coast of Africa and began work in earnest. They visited the Sultan and the Sultan's fleet and were very much struck with all they saw, and had a deal of as good fun as they could ever hope to enjoy.
About Madagascar and the Mauritius they did much surveying work, and after several months they were ordered to Australia.
By this time the Surgeon and Lieutenant Wynn had become almost indispensable to each other. Both were scientists. Indeed the lieutenant was studying hard for his D.Sc. (Doctor of Science), and there is no doubt that he would attain it.
In this year of 1907 and 8 the Admiralty at home had found the utility of always putting a round peg into a round hole, and not into a square one. The days of promotion by seniority alone were gone by and every officer knew that his own merits would score more than influence with big wigs at home. Good officers can only be had through a process of evolution. You cannot make them to order.
And it was just the same with the men forward. A smart boy who honoured discipline was certain of soon having stripes upon his sleeve that brought him respect, even when he went on a spell of leave back to the humble country village where his mother and father lived, and that necessity of life to a handsome young sailor--his little girl.
Talk of the Navy changing. The ships may change and do change, and will keep on changing about every ten years, but Jack himself--Oh never.
He is still the handy man, and still the British heart of oak. "No laggard in love, no dastard in war," is your bold Jack Tar.
CHAPTER IX