not only of daily but
of hourly occurrence.

There were two officers in the sternsheets; but their simple uniform
showed that they were not of any high rank, though the crew paid them
the most profound respect. They were young men, though beards,
pigtails, and lovelocks, with thoroughly weatherbeaten, sunburnt
countenances, made them look somewhat older. One had a silver chain
round his neck, with a call or whistle attached to it, which showed that
he was a boatswain.

As they stepped on shore, the crew threw up their oars, and with one
voice shouted, "We wish you every happiness--that we do, sir, from our
hearts! Three cheer for the boatswain! Hip! hip! hip! hurrah!"

"Thank you, lads," said the young boatswain, turning round with a
pleasant smile on his countenance. "We have served long and happily
together, and done some things to be proud of; and I tell you that I
would rather be boatswain of such a crew as you are, than Captain of
many I have fallen in with. Come up here and have a parting glass! I
know that I can trust you to go back to the ship, as you promised; for
it's one of many things to be proud of, to be able to say that we never
knew a man to run from our ship."

The two warrant-officers were accompanied by an old black man with a
wooden leg, who stumped along, aided by a stick, as fast as they could
walk; while a couple of seamen followed with huge painted canvas bags on
their shoulders, and various foreign-looking things hung about outside.
They themselves carried a couple of birdcages and two parrots; and a
mischievous-looking monkey sat on the black's shoulder, another parrot
being perched on the top of his hat, and a fiddle-case hung over his
neck. They soon got out of Gosport into the country.

"Stay, Harry!" said the elder of the officers; "Paul wrote that we were
to steer west by north, and that if we stood on under easy sail for half
a glass, we should just fetch Paradise Row. Now here we are, with the
sun right astern; let's have the proper bearings of the place."

True Blue--for he was the young boatswain who had been speaking--looked
at the sun, and then, turning himself round, in a few seconds seemed to
make up his mind that they were proceeding in the right direction.

"I feel uncommonly inclined to set more canvas; and yet we mustn't quit
our convoy," he remarked as he moved on.

"No, that wouldn't do," answered his friend, Harry Hartland. "Come,
heave ahead, my hearties!