had been promoted, and that Mr Bryan was the
first-lieutenant. As soon as we had reported ourselves, we dived below
to the berth to hear the news. Two new lieutenants had joined--the
second was a Mr Patrick Fitzgerald. I need not say that he was an
Irishman. He was pronounced to be a most extraordinary fish, and he
positively seemed to take a pleasure in being so considered. He had a
big head covered with reddish hair, which stuck out straight as if he
was always in a fright, his complexion was richly freckled, his eyes
small but twinkling, and his nose, though not prominent, was of ample
dimensions as to width. This beautiful headpiece was placed on the
broadest of shoulders. His body was somewhat short, but his legs were
proportioned to bear the frame of an elephant. He was, as he used to
boast, entirely Irish from truck to keelson, but certainly not of a high
class type. The third lieutenant was an Englishman. This was
fortunate. Mr Haisleden was a steady trustworthy man, and had a good
deal of the cut of a first-lieutenant about him. It is said that, as a
rule, Irishmen make better soldiers than sailors, and perhaps this is
the case. If inclined to be wild they are apt to out-Herod Herod. The
strict rules of naval discipline do not suit their natural temperament.
Paddy Fitzgerald was a case in point, but a more amusing fellow and
better messmate never lived. The ship was again almost ready for sea.
Perigal, who had got leave, came on board, looking very sad at having
had again to part from his wife. Spellman and Grey joined the next day.
There had been no changes in our berth. Perigal ought certainly to
have been promoted, but he was not. "When the ship is paid off, I
suppose that I shall be," he observed with a sigh. It was soon reported
that we were ordered to the West Indies. Grey and I took an opportunity
of asking Mr Johnson what sort of a country we should find out there.

"One thing I will tell you, young gentlemen, you'll find it hot enough
to boil your blood up a bit," he answered; "as to cooking a beefsteak on
the capstan-head, that's nothing, but what do you say to finding all the
fowls in the hen-coops roasted and fit for table? and all you have to
do, is to hold a burning glass over a bucket of water with fish swimming
about in it, and in five minutes you'll have them all thoroughly
boiled."

Grey and I laughed.

"Well, Mr Johnson, it must be hot indeed," said I, and, though I did