airly threw out his starboard grappling-iron, and moored himself to one
of the belaying pins round the mizzen-mast.

"Mister Farmer," said he to the first luff, "you see I know how to keep
a ship in discipline--not (hiccup) a man drunk on board of her."

"I doubt it, sir," was, the respectful answer. "I think, sir, I can see
one now," said he, taking his eyes off his superior, after a searching
glance, and looking carelessly around.

"Where is he?"

"Oh, sir, we must not forget that it is Christmas-day: so if you please,
sir, we will not scrutinise very particularly."

"But we will scru--scrutinise very particularly: remember me of scru--
scrutinise, Mister Rattlin--a good word that scru--screws--trenails--
tenpenny nails--hammers--iron--clamps, and dog-fastenings--what were we
all talking about. Mr Farmer? Oh; sobriety! we will--assuredly
(hiccup) find out the drunken man."

So, with a large _cortege_ of officers, the master-at-arms, and the
ship's corporals, Captain Reud leaning his right arm heavily upon my
left shoulder--for he was cunning enough, just then, to find that the
gout was getting into his foot--we proceeded round the ship on our
voyage of discovery. Now, it is no joke for a man half drunk to be
tried for drunkenness by one wholly so. It was a curious and a comic
sight, that examination--for many of the examined were conscious of a
cup too much. These invariably endeavoured to look the most sober. As
we approached the various groups around each gun, the different
artifices of the men to pass muster were most amusing. Some drew
themselves stiffly up, and looked as rigid as iron-stanchions; others
took the examination with an easy, _debonair_ air, as if to say, "Who so
innocent as I?" Some again, not exactly liking the judge, quietly
dodged round, shifting places with their shipmates, so that when the
captain peered into the eyes of the last for the symptoms of ebriety,
the mercurial rascals had quietly placed themselves first.

To the sharp, startling accusation, "You are drunk, sir," the answers
were beautifully various. The indignant "No, sir!"--the well-acted
surprise, "I, sir?"--the conciliatory "God bless your honour, no,
sir!"--the logical "Bill Bowling was cook to-day, sir,"--and the
sarcastic "No more than your honour's honour," to witness, were, as we
small wits say, better than a play.

The search was almost unavailing. The only fish that came to the net
was a poor idiotic you