th similar trenchancy. "I'd
rather be a brute beast than what I'd be a Liberal," he said; "carrying
banners and that! a pig's got more sense. Why, look at our chief
engineer--they do say he carried a banner with his own 'ands: 'Hooroar
for Gladstone!' I suppose, or 'Down with the Aristocracy!' What 'arm
does the aristocracy do? Show me a country any good without one! Not the
States; why, it's the 'ome of corruption! I knew a man--he was a good
man, 'ome-born--who was signal-quartermaster in the _Wyandotte_. He told
me he could never have got there if he hadn't have 'run with the
boys'--told it me as I'm telling you. Now, we're all British subjects
here----" he was going on.

"I am afraid I am an American," I said apologetically.

He seemed the least bit taken aback, but recovered himself; and, with
the ready tact of his betters, paid me the usual British compliment on
the riposte. "You don't say so!" he exclaimed; "well, I give you my word
of honour I'd never have guessed it. Nobody could tell it on you," said
he, as though it were some form of liquor.

I thanked him, as I always do, at this particular stage, with his
compatriots; not so much, perhaps, for the compliment to myself and my
poor country, as for the revelation (which is ever fresh to me) of
Britannic self-sufficiency and taste. And he was so far softened by my
gratitude as to add a word of praise on the American method of lacing
sails. "You're ahead of us in lacing sails," he said; "you can say that
with a clear conscience."

"Thank you," I replied; "I shall certainly do so."

At this rate we got along swimmingly; and when I rose to retrace my
steps to the Fowlery, he at once started to his feet and offered me the
welcome solace of his company for the return. I believe I discovered
much alacrity at the idea, for the creature (who seemed to be unique, or
to represent a type like that of the dodo) entertained me hugely. But
when he had produced his hat, I found I was in the way of more than
entertainment, for on the ribbon I could read the legend, "H.M.S.
Tempest."

"I say," I began, when our adieus were paid, and we were scrambling down
the path from the look-out, "it was your ship that picked up the men on
board the _Flying Scud_, wasn't it?"

"You may say so," said he. "And a blessed good job for the Flying-Scuds.
It's a God-forsaken spot that Midway Island."

"I've just come from there," said I; "it was I who bought the wreck."

"Beg your pardo