the corporal a
party to his brains being knocked out, but had put it all down to his
natural enemy, Smallbones. The dog was, as usual, standing by the
block, close to the corporal, and picking up the fragments of beef which
dropped from the chopper.

"I vowed by gum, that I'd have that 'ere dog's tail off," observed
Smallbones; "and if no one will peach, off it shall go now. And who
cares? If I can't a-kill him dead, I'll get rid of him by bits.
There's one eye out already, and now I've a mind for his tail.
Corporal, lend me the cleaver."

"Bravo, Smallbones, we won't peach--not one of us."

"I'm not sure of that," replied Moggy; "some won't, I know: but there
are others who may, and then Smallbones will be keel-hauled as sure as
fate, and Vanslyperken will have right on his side. No, no,
Smallbones--you must not do it. Give me the cleaver, corporal, I'll do
it; and any one may tell him who pleases, when he comes on board. I
don't care for him--and he knows it, corporal. Hand me the cleaver."

"That's right, let Moggy do it," said the seamen.

The corporal turned the dog round, so as to leave his tail on the block,
and fed him with small pieces of meat, to keep him in the same position.

"Are you all ready, Moggy?" said Smallbones.

"Back him a little more on the block, corporal, for I won't leave him an
inch if I can help it," said Moggy; "and stand further back, all of
you."

Moggy raised the cleaver, took good aim--down it came upon the dog's
tail, which was separated within an inch of its insertion, and was left
bleeding on the block, while the dog sprang away aft, howling most
terribly, and leaving a dotted line of blood to mark his course upon the
deck.

"There's a nice skewer-piece for any one who fancies it," observed
Moggy, looking at the dog's tail, and throwing down the cleaver. "I
think Mr Vanslyperken has had enough now for trying to flog my Jemmy--
my own duck of a husband."

"Well," observed Coble, "seeing's believing; but otherwise, I never
should have thought it possible to have divided that 'ere dog's tail in
that way."

"He can't be much of a devil now," observed Bill Spurey; "for what's a
devil without a tail? A devil is like a sarpent, whose sting is in his
tail."

"Yes," replied Short, who had looked on in silence. "But I say, Moggy,
perhaps it is as well for him not to find you on board."

"What do I care?" replied Moggy. "He is more afraid of me than I of
him; but, h