cutter Kestrel,
commanded by Lieutenant Bowler, is armed with three long-John's, or
strap-guns, capable of carrying a pound of shrapnel. His Majesty's
cutter Albatross, Lieutenant Corkoran Donovan, carries no artillery
yet--"

"Not artillery--guns, child; your mother calls them 'artillery.'"

"Carries no guns yet, because she was captured from the foreign enemy;
and as yet she has not been reported stanch, since the British fire
made a hole in her. It is, however, expected that those asses at the
dock-yard---"

"Geraldine, how often must I tell you that you are not to use that word?
It is your father's expression."

"It is, however, expected that those donkeys at the dock-yard will
recommend her to be fitted with two brass howisyers."

"Howitzers, my darling. Spell that word, and you shall have your penny.
Now you may run out and play again. Give your old father a pretty kiss
for it. I often wish," continued the lieutenant, as his daughter flew
back to the dead skate and the babies, "that I had only got that
child's clear head. Sometimes the worry is too much for me. And now if
Nettlebones catches Robin Lyth, to a certainty I shall be superseded,
and all of us go to the workhouse. Oh, Tilly, why won't your old aunt
die? We might be so happy afterward."

"Charles, it is not only sinful, but wicked, to show any wish to hurry
her. The Lord knows best what is good for us; and our prayers upon such
matters should be silent."

"Well, mine would be silent and loud too, according to the best chance
of being heard. Not that I would harm the poor old soul; I wish her
every heavenly blessing; and her time is come for all of them. But I
never like to think of that, because one's own time might come first. I
have felt very much out of spirits to-day, as my poor father did the day
before he got his billet. You know, Matilda, he was under old Boscawen,
and was killed by the very first shot fired; it must be five-and-forty
years ago. How my mother did cry, to be sure! But I was too young to
understand it. Ah, she had a bad time with us all! Matilda, what would
you do without me?"

"Why, Charles, you are not a bit like yourself. Don't go to-night; stay
at home for once. And the weather is very uncertain, too. They never
will attempt their job to-night. Countermand the boats, dear; I
will send word to stop them. You shall not even go out of the house
yourself."

"As if it were possible! I am not an old woman, nor even an old