sailor, fond of conviviality, of gaming and a stiff glass of grog, but
never off his guard. He went by the name of "Tom Bowline." The seventh was
as broad as he was long; the cockpitonians dubbed him "Toby Philpot." He
was an oddity, and fond of coining new words. He knew the ship had three
masts and a sheet anchor. He was a strict disciple of Hamilton Moore, fond
of arguing about dip and refraction, particularly the former, as he put it
in practice on himself, being sometimes found with his head and heels at
an angle of 30 degrees in consequence of dipping his head to too many
north-westers. He was, however, good-natured, knew by rule how to put the
ship in stays, and sometimes, by misrule, how to put her in irons, which
generally brought the captain on deck, who both boxhauled the ship and him
by praying most heartily, although indirectly, for blessings on all
lubberly actions, and would then turn to the quarter-master and threaten
him with a flogging for letting the ship get in irons, poor Toby looking
the whole time very sheepish, knowing the harangue was intended for him.
The master was a middle-aged, innocent west-countryman, a good sailor,
knew all the harbours from Plymouth to the Land's End, and perhaps several
others, but he was more of a pilot than a master, and usually conversed
about landmarks, church steeples, and crayfish. The surgeon was a clever
little dapper man, well-read, shockingly irritable, fond of controversy on
ethics, etymology, and giving the blue pill. I need not acquaint my reader
he was from York. The purser was the shadow of a man, very regular in his
accounts, fond of peach-water, playing the flute, of going on shore,
receiving his necessary money and taking all imaginable care of number
one. The captain of marines was a soldierly-looking, little, strong-built
man, very upright, fond of his bottle of wine, of holding warm arguments
with the surgeon, which always ended without either's conviction--sometimes
to the annoyance, but more frequently to the amusement of the wardroom,
and he always appeared an inch taller when inspecting his corps. In his
manner he was always on parade, and he thought it a condescension to
notice a mid. The first lieutenant of marines was a tall, slight man, knew
the manual by heart, was fond of reading novels, presumed he was a great
man among the ladies (question, what sort of ladies?). He was a great
puppy, and when he passed the mids he regarded them with an ai