ty and sprightliness of appearance at the best
of times.

"They seem quite healthy, sir," the First Lieutenant answered, putting
his head on one side in a most judicial manner.

"Yes, yes," murmured the Commander. "But they are all the colours of
the rainbow. White, yellow, brown, grey, and black."

"So they are, sir," said Pardoe, as if he had observed the astounding
fact for the first time.

"Who do they belong to?"

"They're yours, sir. Your steward looks after them."

"Does he, indeed?" said the skipper, rather nonplussed. "Well, send
for my steward."

The portly and dignified Ah Fong presently appeared.

"Is it not possible for you to buy fowls of all the same colour?" the
"Owner" wanted to know.

Ah Fong stared in hopeless bewilderment, trying to grasp his master's
meaning. "My no savvy, sah," he said, shaking his head.

"Can you not buy your chickens, or my chickens, rather, all one colour?
White, for preference, as the weather is hot."

"I savvy, sah," exclaimed the Chinaman, with a beatific smile slowly
spreading over his countenance. "You no likee black piecee hen, sah?"

"No, no, that's not what I mean at all," said Potvin, going off into a
long explanation.

At last Ah Fong began to understand what was wanted. "No can do, sah!"
he expostulated. "S'pose I go 'shore catch piecee hen. I say to one
man, I wanchee plentee fat piecee hen, no wanchee olo piecee, wanchee
young plenty big piecee hen for capten...."

"I really cannot waste my time listening to this senseless
conversation!" interrupted the Captain, with some petulance. "Mr.
Pardoe, you will kindly explain to him that in future all the fowls on
board are to be white in the summer, and blue... 'er, I mean black, in
the winter. I will have them in the proper dress of the day like the
ship's company, do you understand?"

"I do, sir," said the wretched Pardoe with an inaudible sigh, as the
little procession moved on.

He did explain to the steward what was required, and Ah Fong was
confronted with a dilemma. However, he had his wits about him, and the
next Sunday morning, to Number One's intense astonishment, every
wretched fowl in the coop, black, grey, or brown, had been freshly
whitewashed. Their feathers were all plastered together, and they
looked supremely unhappy and more bedraggled than ever, but the
captain's aesthetic eye was apparently satisfied, for he passed them by
with a glance and made no adverse remarks.