eld. Those shore Johnnies have got a
lot to be knocked into them! He doesn't know Farmer as we do, or he'd
fight shy of taking a liberty with him!"

"Fancy, though, his skylarking round, in all his war paint," said "Joe,"
breaking into his jovial laugh, which always made me join in for
sympathy. "I shouldn't wonder if he belonged to what they call the
church militant; and on hearing the drummer beat to quarters, he
naturally thought he ought to be prepared with his spiritual weapons as
we were buckling on our arms, eh? By Jove, there he is now coming out
of the wardroom right up to us! I say, Charley, stand by me, like a
good chap."

But, Mr Gilham, thought in this instance that "discretion was the
better part of valour," for he gave poor "Joe" the slip by incontinently
bolting up the hatchway, leaving his comrade to encounter alone the
chaplain, who the next moment, in full canonicals, surplice and hood and
cassock and all, confronted him.

He was a slim, sandy-coloured gentleman, I noticed, with hair of the
tint of tow. He had also white eyelashes, and spoke in a thin,
hesitating voice, with a timid manner, as if very nervous and uncertain
of his footing.

"A-hem," he began, with a slight affected cough of introduction. "I
be--believe I'm addressing Mr --?"

"Jellaby is my name, sir," said the lieutenant, filling up the hiatus in
his speech and bowing politely. "Joe Jellaby, at your service. Is
there anything I can do for you, Mr --?"

"Smythe, sir, is my name," replied the other. "I am the ah--chaplain."

"So I see, sir," said Joe, drily, glancing at his canonicals. "Glad to
have the pleasure of making your acquaintance, Mr Smith."

"`Smythe,' that is `Smith' with a final `e,' if you please," corrected
the reverend gentleman in a plaintive tone. "My name is not `Smith,'
Mr Jellyboy."

"Nor is mine Jellyboy, Mr Smythe," retorted "Joe," laughing outright at
the comical situation. "We've both made a mistake, Mr Smythe; and I
apologise for mine. But, is there anything I can do for you, sir?"

"Well," hesitated the other, "I want, you know, to hold a service, you
know--ah, and--"

"You'll have to ask the captain after divisions, sir," put in "Joe"
anxious to close the interview, for the drums had begun to beat the
Retreat for the men to return their arms. "Excuse me, though, please,
Mr Smythe, I've got to go on deck now."

With that he vanished up the hatchway after Mr Gilham; and, thereupon