look and a grin. Miles met the remark
in a similar spirit.

"Yes, Jack, I've been paying tribute to Neptune lately."

"You looks like it, Miles, judgin' by the colour o' your jib. Where
away now?"

"Going for our soup."

"What! made you cook o' the mess?"

"Ay; don't you wish you were me?"

Another roll and flash of spray ended the conversation and separated the
friends.

The pea-soup was ready when our hero reached the galley. Having filled
the mess-tureen with the appetising mixture, he commenced the return
journey with great care, for he was now dependent entirely on his legs,
both hands being engaged. Miles was handy, if we may say so, with his
legs. Once or twice he had to rush and thrust a shoulder against the
bulwarks, and a dash of spray served for salt to the soup; but he was
progressing favourably and had traversed full three-quarters of the
distance to the hatch when a loud "Hooroo!" caused him to look round
smartly.

He had just time to see Corporal Flynn, who had slipped and fallen, come
rolling towards him like a sack of flour. Next moment he was swept off
his legs, and went into the lee scuppers with his comrade in a bath of
pea-soup and salt-water!

Fortunately, the obliging wave which came in-board at the same moment
mingled with the soup, and saved both men from a scalding.

Such mishaps, however, were rare, and they served rather to enliven the
voyage than otherwise.

Besides the duties already mentioned, our hero had to wash up all the
dishes and other things at meal-hours; to polish up the mess-kettles and
tin dishes; and, generally, to put things away in their places, and keep
things in apple-pie order. Recollecting another of his mother's
teachings--"Whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well"--he
tried his best, and was so ably seconded by the amiable Moses, that the
Miles-Moses mess came to be at last regarded as the best-kept one on
board.

One morning, after clearing up the dishes and putting things in order,
Miles went on deck for a little fresh air. On the way up he met an
elderly gentleman whose dress proclaimed him a clergyman.

He looked earnestly at our hero, and, nodding kindly, spoke a few words
to him in passing. Miles had been aware that there was a clergyman on
board going out to Egypt with his family--whether in connection with the
troops or for health he did not know. He was much impressed with the
looks and expression of this man. It seemed to