call Dicky Snookes. His real name,
though, is Algernon Godolphin Stafford, on which he rather prides
himself. This was found out, so it was voted that he should be
re-christened, and not be allowed under dreadful pains and penalties to
assume his proper appellation in the berth; so no one thinks of calling
him anything but Snookes. He is getting not to mind it, which I am glad
of, as he does not seem a bad fellow, and is up to fun of all sorts.
There is another fellow who is always called Lord Jones or My Lord,
because he is as unlike what you would suppose a nobleman to be as
possible. Then there is Polly. His real name is Skeffington Scoulding,
which was voted too long, so, as poor fellow he has lost an eye, he was
dubbed Polyphemus, which was soon turned into Polly. I haven't got a
new name yet, so I hope to stick to my own. I have picked up a good
many more bits of information during the three days I have been on
board, but I have not time to tell them now. I will though, don't fear.
I hope to be put in a watch when we get to sea. I don't mean inside a
silver case, to go on tick!--ha!--ha!--ha! but to keep watch under a
lieutenant, to see what the ship is about, and to keep her out of
scrapes. Good-bye, dear old fellow, I'll tell you more when I can.--
Your affect brother, Pringle Rushforth.

STORY ONE, CHAPTER 2.

NOTES FROM MY LOG.

The capstern went round with a merry tune--the boatswain's whistle
sounded shrilly along the decks with a magic effect--the anchor was hove
up--the sails were let fall and but a few minutes had passed, after the
captain gave the word of command, before the ship, under a wide spread
of snowy canvas, was standing down the Solent towards the Needle
passage. It was a lovely summer's day, the sky was blue and so was the
water, and the land looked green and bright, and the paint was so fresh,
and the deck so white, and the officers in their glittering uniform had
so polished an appearance, and the men in their white trousers and
shirts with worked collars and natty hats, looked so neat and active as
they sprang nimbly aloft, or flew about the decks, that I felt very
proud of the frigate and everything about her, and very glad that I had
come to sea. To be sure matters below were not quite in the same order
just then. Still prouder was I when we saluted the Queen, who was at
Osborne--firing away first on one side and then on the other, with a
flash and a roar, and a huge p