igible to anyone outside Lower-deck circles were hurled
to and fro like snowballs. Every discreditable incident of their joint
careers as units of that vast fighting force, personalities that would
have brought blushes to the cheeks of a Smithfield porter, the whole
couched in the obscure jargon of Catwater and Landport taverns, rang
backwards and forwards across the water, and withal the utmost good
humour and enjoyment wreathing their faces with smiles.

The distant report of a gun sounded and a far-off roar of voices
announced that the first race had started; straight-way the tumult
subsided, and an expectant hush awaited the approach of the line of
boats moving towards them like a row of furious water-beetles.

The race drew nearer, and ship after ship of the line took up the
deep-toned roar. The names of the ships, invoked by their respective
ship's companies as might the ancients have called upon their Gods,
blended in one great volume of sound. The more passionately interested
supporters of the crews followed the strung-out competitors in
steam-boats, and added their invocations to the rest.

A rifle cracked on board the end ship of the line, and the crew of the
leading boat collapsed in crumpled heaps above their oars. The race
was over. On board a ship half-way down the line a frantic outburst of
cheering suddenly predominated above all other sounds, and continued
unabated as the rifle cracked twice more in quick succession,
announcing that the second and third boats had ended the race.

A hoist of flags at the masthead of the Flagship proclaimed the names
of the first three crews, dipped, and was succeeded by the number of
the next race. Again the gun in the bows of the Umpire's steam-boat
sped the next race upon its way, and once more the tumult of men's
voices rose and swelled to a gale of sound that swept along the line,
and died to the tumultuous cheering of a single ship.

A couple of hours passed thus, and there remained one race before
dinner, the Officers' Gigs. The events of the forenoon had
considerably enhanced the reputation of the Captain of the Forecastle
as a prophet. Furthermore, the result of the Boys' Race had enriched
the Ship's Painter to the extent of a sovereign. It needed but the
victory of the Officers' Gigs to place the ship well in sight of the
Silver Cock, which was the Squadron Trophy for the largest number of
points obtained by any individual ship.

The starting-poin