in one of his Majesty's vessels of war. The shifts we were
obliged to have recourse to were quite amusing, to all but the
shiftmakers. The only good hat, and wearable uniform coat, went round
and round; it was a happy thing for this disconsolate seven that we were
all nearly of a size. To aggravate our misfortunes, we could no longer
get an occasional dinner, either in the captain's cabin or the
ward-room, for our clothes were all in rags.

In the meanwhile, Joshua Daunton grew more and more sleek, and pale, and
fat. He throve upon our miseries. He played his part at length so
well, as to avoid thrashings. He possessed, in perfection, that which,
in classic cockpit, is called "the gift of the gab." He was never in
the wrong. Indeed, he began to get a favourite with each of the
individuals over whom he was so mercilessly tyrannising, while each
thought himself the tyrant. All this may seem improbable to
well-nurtured, shore-bred young gentlemen and ladies; but midshipmen
were always reckless and idle--that is, personally. On actual service,
they have ever been equally reckless, but commensurably active. This
kindness of Joshua, in taking all trouble off our hands, soon left us
almost nothing wherewith to trouble ourselves.

CHAPTER FIFTY SIX.

AN ANTICIPATED DINNER--ALL THE ENJOYMENT SPOILED BY THE FIRST CUT--A
SUIT OF CLOTHES ILL-SUITED FOR WEARING--AND JOSHUA DAUNTON TRYING ON A
PAIR OF IRON LEGGINGS--MORE EASILY PUT ON THAN SHAKEN OFF.

This imp, this Flibbertygibbet, was killing us by inches. At length,
one of the master's mates, no longer being able to starve quietly and
philosophically, as became a man of courage, was again determined, by
one last effort, to dine, and breakfast, and sup, in the captain's cabin
and ward-room as often as he could. So, finding that there was enough
new blue cloth on board, with buttons, etcetera, to make him a complete
suit, he purchased them at an enormous price, _on credit_; and set the
ship's tailors to work incontinently. By this time, we were, with our
homeward-bound convoy, on the banks of Newfoundland. It was misty and
cold--and we were chilly and ragged. In such a conjuncture of
circumstances, even the well-clothed may understand what a blessing a
new suit of warm blue must be--that suit bearing in its suite a long
line of substantial breakfasts, dinners, and suppers. All this was
about to be Mr Pigtop's, our kind messmate, and respectable mate of the