ts, thriving abundantly on the
scantiest soil.

For a while only the drowsy swish of the water past the bottom of the
boat, and snatches of merriment or song drifting aft from the cutter,
broke the silence in the skiff. Then Mouldy Jakes's companion
apparently tired of this silent communion.

"Sir," he said, "would you like to fish?"

"No," said Mouldy Jakes.

His host proceeded to unwind his line. "Do you mind if I do?" he
enquired.

"No," was the reply.

The Midshipman watched his line in silence for a little while. "Do you
think you sank that submarine last night?" he asked presently.

Mouldy Jakes closed his eyes and gave a grunt with an affirmative
intonation.

"It must have been a topping show. Weren't you awfully bucked, sir?"

Another grunt.

"I suppose you didn't get a wink of sleep all night?"

A vague confirmatory noise.

"You must be jolly tired, sir. Wouldn't you like to sleep a bit now,
sir?"

"Yes."

"Right ho, sir. You can carry on and have a jolly good caulk. I'm
going to fish, and I'll call you when we get to the island where we're
going to land.... Is your head quite comfortable?"

Silence reigned in the skiff.

The cutter had passed beyond the outskirts of the Fleet, and the
decorum required of the occupants of a Service boat in such
surroundings no longer ruled their behaviour. They sang and shouted
for sheer joy of bellowing, full-lunged, across the untrammelled water.
No one whose life is not spent in the narrow confines of a man-of-war,
walking paths sternly ruled by Naval Discipline, can realise the
intoxicating effect of such an emancipation. The mysterious workings
of the Midshipman-mind found full play on these occasions, as they
tumbled about in the bottom of the boat in the unfettered enjoyment of
a whole-hearted "scrap." If you have ever seen young foxes at play,
buffeting each other, yelping with simulated anguish, nuzzling
endearments half savage and half in play, you have an idea of the
bottom of a cutter full of Midshipmen proceeding on a picnic. It was
an embodiment of youth triumphant, shouting with laughter at the Jest
of Life.

"Where shall we go?" asked Standish, smiling, during a lull when the
crew sat panting and flushed with exertion, grinning at each other over
the tops of the thwarts.

"Any blooming where," shouted Thorogood. "As long as it is out of
sight of the Fleet. I feel I've seen enough of the Silent Navy for an
hour or two." T