of the House of Hanover has been hailed by
its members with fresh hopes of a change in their favour, which hopes
have ended in disappointment; but perhaps it is as well. The navy
require no prophet to tell it, in the literal sense of the word, that
one cannot touch pitch without being defiled; but there is a moral
pitch, the meanness, the dishonesty, and servility of Court, with which,
I trust, our noble service will never be contaminated.

I have, however, somewhat wandered from my subject, which was brought up
in consequence of a gentleman who had paid me every attention at a large
club down at Cowes, to which I had been invited, inquiring of me, across
the table, if I were connected with the Keenes of ---? My reply was
ready: "I did not think that I was; my father had died a young man in
the East Indies. I knew that he was of Scotch descent (which he was),
but I was too young to know anything about his connections, whom he had
quitted at an early age; since that I had been educated and brought
forward by Lord de Versely, who had, since the death of my mother,
treated me as if I were his own son." This was said openly, and being
strictly true, of course without hesitation on my part. It was quite
sufficient; I had noble patronage, and it was therefore to be presumed
that I was somebody, or that patronage would not have been extended. I
mention this, because it was the only time that I was ever questioned
about my family; it was therefore to be presumed that my reply was
considered satisfactory.

I accepted an invitation on board of the yacht and sailed about for
several days, very much amused and flattered by the attention shown to
me by the noble commodore and others. One day I fell in with an old
acquaintance. A small vessel, of about twenty tons, cutter-rigged, came
down under the stern of the commodore's yacht; it was then very smooth
water, very light wind, and, moreover, very hot weather; and one of the
squadron, who was standing by me on the taffrail, said, "Keene, do look
at this craft coming down under our stern--there's quite a curiosity in
it. It is a yacht belonging to an Irish Major O'Flinn, as he calls
himself; why the O, I don't know; but he's a good fellow, and very
amusing; there he is abaft; he has the largest whiskers you ever saw;
but it is not of him I would speak. Wait a little, and as soon as the
square sail is out of the way, you will see his wife. Such a whapper!
I believe she wei