valuable prize, and among
other things she had a _puncheon_ of otto of roses on board--"

"Whew!" cried the first lieutenant. "What! a whole puncheon?"

"Yes," replied the captain, "a Turkish puncheon--not quite so large,
perhaps, as ours on board; their weights and measures are different. I
took out most of the valuables into the brig I commanded--about 20,000
sequins--carpets--and among the rest, this cask of otto of roses, which
we had smelt three miles off. We had it safe on board, when the mate of
the hold, not slinging it properly, it fell into the spirit-room with a
run and was stove to pieces. Never was such a scene; my first
lieutenant and several men on deck fainted; and the men in the hold were
brought up lifeless: it was some time before they were recovered. We
let the water into the brig, and pumped it out, but nothing would take
away the smell, which was so overpowering, that before I could get to
Malta I had forty men on the sick-list. When I arrived there, I turned
the mate out of the service for his carelessness. It was not until
after having smoked the brig, and finding that of little use, after
having sunk her for three weeks, that the smell was at all bearable; but
even then it could never be eradicated, and the admiral sent the brig
home, and she was sold out of the service. They could do nothing with
her at the dock-yards. She was broken up, and bought by the people at
Brighton and Tunbridge Wells, who used her timbers for turning fancy
articles, which, smelling as they did so strongly of otto of roses,
proved very profitable. Were you ever at Brighton, Mr Simple?"

"Never, sir."

Just at this moment, the officer of the watch came down to say that
there was a very large shark under the counter, and wished to know if
the captain had any objection to the officers attempting to catch it.

"By no means," replied Captain Kearney; "I hate sharks as I do the
devil. I nearly lost 14,000 pounds by one, when I was in the
Mediterranean."

"May I inquire how, Captain Kearney;" said the first lieutenant, with a
demure face; "I'm very anxious to know."

"Why the story is simply this," replied the captain. "I had an old
relation at Malta, whom I found out by accident--an old maid of sixty,
who had lived all her life on the island. It was by mere accident that
I knew of her existence. I was walking upon Strada Reale, when I saw a
large baboon that was kept there, who had a little fat pug-dog