ugh. "Now we are
quits."

The officers hastened below to wash and change their dress after this very
annoying retaliation on the part of Captain Oughton. When they felt
themselves again clean and comfortable, their good humour returned,
although they voted their captain not to be very refined in his ideas, and
agreed with him that his practical joke beat "cock-fighting."

I believe that there are no classes of people who embark with more regret,
or quit a ship with more pleasure, than military men. Nor is it to be
wondered at, if we consider the antithesis which is presented to their
usual mode of life. Few military men are studious, or inclined to reading,
which is almost the only resource which is to be found against the tedium
of long confinement and daily monotony. I do not say this reproachfully, as
I consider it arises from the peculiarity of their profession, and must be
considered to be more their misfortune than their fault. They enter upon a
military life just after they have left school,--the very period at which,
from previous and forced application, they have been surfeited with books
_usque ad nauseam_. The parade, dress; the attention paid to them, which
demands civilities in return; society, and the preference shown by the fair
sex; their happy and well-conducted mess; the collecting together of so
many young men, with all their varied plans of amusement, into which the
others are easily persuaded to enter, with just sufficient duty on guard,
or otherwise, not to make the duty irksome; all delight too much at first,
and eventually, from habit, too much occupy their minds, to afford time for
study.

In making this observation, I must be considered to speak generally. There
are many studious, many well-stored minds, many men of brilliant talents,
who have improved the gift of nature by constant study and reflection, and
whose conduct must be considered as the more meritorious, from having
resisted or overcome the strong temptation to do otherwise which is offered
by their profession.

"I wish," said Irving, who was stretched out his full length on one of the
coops abaft, with the front of his cap drawn over his eyes--"I wish this
cursed voyage was at an end. Every day the same thing; no variety--no
amusement;--curry for breakfast--brandy _pawnee_ as a finish. I really
begin to detest the sight of a cigar or a pack of cards."

"Very true," replied Ansell, who was stretched upon an adjacent coop in all