the Quarter Deck you 'ave. You
fink you're agoin' to be a blighted perishin' orficer you do! Yus, you
flat-footed matlot--not even a blasted tiffy you ain't, and you buys a
blighted baccy-pouch and yaller baccy and fag-pipers, like a Snottie,
an' reckons you's on the 'igh road to be a bloomin' Winnie Lloyd
Gorgeous Orficer. 'And 'em 'ere--fore I'm sick. Lootenant,--Gunnery
Jack,--Number One,--Commerdore!"

"Parding me, 'Enery Smiff," returned William Jones with quiet dignity.
"In consequents o' wot you said, an' more in consequents o' yore
clumsy fat fingers not been used to 'andlin' dellikit objex, and most
in consequents o' yore been a most ontrustable thief, I will perceed
to roll you a fag meself, me been 'ighly competent so fer to do. Not
but wot a fag'll look most outer place in _your_ silly great ugly
faice."

The other sailor watched the speaker in cold contempt as he prepared a
distinctly exiguous, ill-fed cigarette.

"Harthur Handrews," he said, turning to his other neighbour, "'Ave yew
'appened to see the Master Sail-maker or any of 'is mermydiuns
'ere-abahts, by any chawnst?"

"Nope. 'An don' want. Don' wan' see nothink to remind me o'

Ther blue, ther fresh, ther _hever_ free,
Ther blarsted, beastly, boundin' sea.

Not even your distressin' face and dirty norticle apparile. Why do you
arksk sich silly questchings?"

"Willyerm Jones is amakin' a needle for 'im."

"As 'ow?"

"Wiv a fag-paper an' a thread o' yaller baccy. 'E's makin' a bloomin'
needle," and with a sudden grab he possessed himself of the pouch,
papers, and finished product of Seaman Jones's labours and generosity.

Having pricked himself severely and painfully with the alleged
cigarette, he howled with pain, cast it from him, proceeded to stick
two papers together and to make an uncommonly stout, well-nourished,
and bounteous cigarette.

"I 'fought I offered you to make yourself a cigarette, 'Enery,"
observed the astounded owner of the _materia nicotina_.

"I grabbed for to make myself a cigarette, Willyerm," was the
pedantically correct restatement of Henry.

"Then why go for to try an' mannyfacter a bloomin' banana?" asked the
indignant victim, whose further remarks were drowned in the roars of
applause which greeted the appearance from the dressing-tents of the
Champion and the Challenger.

Dam and Corporal Dowdall entered the ring from opposite corners,
seated themselves in the chairs provided for them, and submitted