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dear," added she, turning to her husband, “his lordship drank your health in a bumper." "Poor Jack!" cries he, "a dear, good-natured creature ; I know he loves me. But I hope, my dear, you have given orders for dinner; you need make no great preparations, neither, there are but three of us; something elegant, and little will do—a turbot, an ortolan, or a"Or what do you think, my dear," interrupts the wife, "of a nice pretty bit of ox-cheek, piping hot, and dressed with a little of my own sauce?" "The very thing,' replies he; "it will eat best with some smart bottled beer; but be sure to let's have the sauce his grace was so fond of. I hate I hate your immense loads of meat-that is country all over; extreme disgusting to those who are in the least acquainted with high life."

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XV

Sir Walter condemns the service

HE profession has its utility, but I should be sorry to see any friend of mine belonging

"Indeed!" was the reply, and with a look of surprise.

"Yes; it is in two points offensive to me; I have two strong grounds of objection to it. First, as being the means of bringing persons of obscure birth into undue distinction, and raising men to honours which their fathers and grandfathers never dreamt of; and, secondly, as it cuts up a man's youth and vigour most horribly; a sailor grows

old sooner than any other man; I have observed it all my life. A man is in greater danger in the navy of being insulted by the rise of one whose father his father might have disdained to speak to, and of becoming prematurely an object of disgust himself, than in any other line. One day last spring, in town, I was in company with two men, striking instances of what I am talking of,-Lord St. Ives, whose father we all know to have been a country curate, without bread to eat: I was to give place to Lord St. Ives, and a certain Admiral Baldwin, the most deplorable-looking personage you can imagine; his face the colour of mahogany, rough and rugged to the last degree, all lines and wrinkles, nine grey hairs of a side, and nothing but a dab of powder at top. In the name of heaven, who is that old fellow?' said I to a friend of mine who was standing near (Sir Basil Morley).—' Old fellow!' cried Sir Basil, it is Admiral Baldwin. What do you take his age to be? '—' Sixty,' said I, or perhaps sixty-two.'-' Forty,' replied Sir Basil, forty, and no more.' Picture to yourselves my amazement : I shall not easily forget Admiral Baldwin. I never saw quite so wretched an example of what a seafaring life can do ; but to a degree, I know it is the same with them all: they are all knocked about, and exposed to every climate, and every weather, till they are not fit to be seen. It is a pity they are not knocked on the head before they reach Admiral Baldwin's age."

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XVI

Mr. Chucks on names

R. SIMPLE, a boatswain is an officer, and is entitled to a sword as well as the captain, although we have been laughed out of it by a set of midshipman monkeys. I always wore my sword at that time; but now-a-days a boatswain is counted as nobody, unless there is hard work to do, and then it's Mr. Chucks this, and Mr. Chucks that. But I'll explain to you how it is, Mr. Simple, that we boatswains have lost so much of consequence and dignity. The first lieutenants are made to do the boatswain's duty now-a-days, and if they could only wind the call, they might scratch the boatswain's name off half the ships' books in his Majesty's service. But to go on with my yarn. On the fourth day, I called with my handkerchief full of segars for the father, but he was at siesta, as they called it. The old serving-woman would not let me in at first; but I shoved a dollar between her skinny old fingers, and that altered her note. She put her old head out, and looked round to see if there was anybody in the street to watch us, and then she let me in and shut the door. I walked into the room, and found myself alone with Seraphina."

"Seraphina !-what a fine name!"

"No name can be too fine for a pretty girl, or a good frigate, Mr. Simple; for my part, I'm very fond of these hard names. Your Bess, and Poll, and Sue, do very well for the Point, or Castle Rag;

but in my opinion they degrade a lady. Don't you observe, Mr. Simple, that all our gun-brigs, a sort of vessel that will certainly d -n the inventor to all eternity, have nothing but low, common names, such as Pincher, Thrasher, Boxer, Badger, and all that sort, which are quite good enough for them ; whereas all our dashing, saucy frigates have names as long as the main-top bowling, and hard enough to break your jaw-such as Melpomeny, Terpsichory, Arethusy, Bacchanty-fine flourishes, as long as their pennants which dip alongside in a calm."

"Very true," replied I; "but do you think, then, it is the same with family names?"

"Most certainly, Mr. Simple. When I was in good society, I rarely fell in with such names as Potts, or Bell, or Smith, or Hodges; it was always Mr. Fortesque, or Mr. FitzGerald, or Mr. FitzHerbert-seldom bowed, sir, to anything under three syllables."

"Then, I presume, Mr. Chucks, you are not fond of your own name?"

"There you touch me, Mr. Simple; but it is quite good enough for a boatswain," replied Mr. Chucks with a sigh.

XVII

Mr. Mantalini in despair

“THERE

HERE is quite a bloom upon your demd countenance," said Mr. Mantalini, seating himself unbidden, and arranging his hair and

whiskers. "You look quite juvenile and jolly, demmit!"

"We are alone," returned Ralph, tartly. "What do you want with me?"

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"Good!" cried Mr. Mantalini, displaying his teeth. What did I want! Yes. Ha, ha! Very good. What did I want. Ha, ha. Ha, ha. Oh

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"What do you want, man?" demanded Ralph, sternly.

"Demnition discount," returned Mr. Mantalini, with a grin, and shaking his head waggishly. Money is scarce," said Ralph.

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Demd scarce, or I shouldn't want it," interrupted Mr. Mantalini.

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The times are bad, and one scarcely knows whom to trust," continued Ralph. "I don't want to do business just now, in fact I would rather not; but as you are a friend-how many bills have you there?"

"Two," returned Mr. Mantalini.

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What is the gross amount?

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"Demd trifling. Five-and-seventy." "And the dates?"

"Two months, and four."

"I'll do them for you-mind, for you; I wouldn't for many people-for five-and-twenty pounds," said Ralph, deliberately.

"Oh demmit!" cried Mr. Mantalini, whose face lengthened considerably at this handsome proposal.

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Why, that leaves you fifty," retorted Ralph. "What would you have? Let me see the names."

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