ish and
Thorogood and the Doc, say."

"_And_ old Jakes," supplemented the Midshipman of that officer's
Division jealously. "I'd like to ask him. He loves picnics."

Mouldy Jakes was included in the invitation list by general consent.
His half-humorous, resigned air of chronic boredom had a peculiar
attraction for all the Midshipmen; in the case of the Midshipman of his
turret it amounted to idolatry.

"Go an' ask 'em, Harcourt," said the Senior Midshipman. "You're the
Blue-eyed Boy with the Wardroom. I'll go and tackle the Commander for
the cutter."

"Then Bosh and I will go and ginger-up the Messman," said another, "and
get a basket packed. What shall we have for tea?"

"Sloe-gin," promptly responded a tall, pale Midshipman with a slightly
freckled nose and sandy hair. "Sloe-gin and bangers.[1] And get
strawberry jam: see the Messman doesn't try and palm off any of his
beastly gooseberry stuff like he did last time. What about bacon and
eggs, and some tins of cocoa and milk, and a cake and some sardines----"

"Wonk," interrupted the caterer, "we're only going to have tea ashore.
We aren't going to camp out for the week-end."

"I tell you what," said Mouldy Jake's patron, "I'll bring my line and
we'll catch pollack and fry _them_ for tea too."

"Well, I'm going to shift," said Malison, and the Committee of Supply
broke up and passed down below.

Half an hour later the cutter, manned and provisioned, with the skiff
in tow, hoisted her foresail and sheered off from the after gangway.
The India-rubber Man, as Senior Officer of the expedition, took the
helm and banished the Young Doctor into the bows, where, to judge by
the ecstatic shouts of merriment that floated aft, his peculiar form of
wit was much appreciated. Thorogood, at the main sheet, with an old
deerstalker on his head and a pipe in his mouth, led the chorus in the
sternsheets. Mouldy Jakes had usurped the skiff, and having satisfied
himself that he was required to take no further part in the navigation
of the expedition, made himself comfortable in the bottom of the boat
and blinked at the sky through puffs of smoke from his pipe.

He was followed into this voluntary exile by the Midshipman of his
Division, one Morton, who sat in the bows contemplating him
affectionately.

Precisely what it was that inspired this apparently one-sided
attachment was never very apparent. The almost passionate loyalty and
affections of youth are hardy plan