ketch of this story. For Captain Shaw,
if it were he, handed it to his successor in the charge, and he to
his, and I suppose the commander of the _Levant_ has it to-day as his
authority for keeping this man in this mild custody.

The rule adopted on board the ships on which I have met "the man
without a country" was, I think, transmitted from the beginning. No
mess liked to have him permanently, because his presence cut off all
talk of home or the prospect of return, of politics or letters, of
peace or of war--cut off more than half the talk men liked to have at
sea. But it was always thought too hard that he should never meet the
rest of us, except to touch hats, and we finally sank into one system.
He was not permitted to talk with the men, unless an officer was by.
With officers he had unrestrained intercourse, as far as they and he
chose. But he grew shy, though he had favourites: I was one. Then the
captain always asked him to dinner on Monday. Every mess in succession
took up the invitation in its turn. According to the size of the ship,
you had him at your mess more or less often at dinner. His breakfast
he ate in his own state-room--he always had a state-room--which was
where a sentinel or somebody on the watch could see the door. And
whatever else he ate or drank, he ate or drank alone. Sometimes, when
the marines or sailors had any special jollification, they were
permitted to invite "Plain-Buttons," as they called him. Then Nolan
was sent with some officer, and the men were forbidden to speak of
home while he was there. I believe the theory was that the sight of
his punishment did them good. They called him "Plain-Buttons,"
because, while he always chose to wear a regulation army-uniform, he
was not permitted to wear the army-button, for the reason that it bore
either the initials or the insignia of the country he had disowned.

I remember, soon after I joined the navy, I was on shore with some of
the older officers from our ship and from the _Brandywine_, which we
had met at Alexandria. We had leave to make a party and go up to Cairo
and the Pyramids. As we jogged along (you went on donkeys then), some
of the gentlemen (we boys called them "Dons," but the phrase was long
since changed) fell to talking about Nolan, and someone told the
system which was adopted from the first about his books and other
reading. As he was almost never permitted to go on shore, even though
the vessel lay in port for months, his