excited, he had a custom of shaking his shoulders up and down; and his epaulettes, on these occasions, flapped like the huge ears of a trotting elephant.  At the most distant view of his person or sound of his voice, every midshipman, not obliged to remain, fled, like the land-crabs on a West India beach.  He was incessantly taunting me, was sure to find some fault or other with me, and sneeringly called me “one of your frigate midshipmen.”

Irritated by this unjust treatment, I one day answered that I was a frigate midshipman, and hoped I could do my duty as well as any line-of-battle midshipman, of my own standing, in the service.  For this injudicious and rather impertinent remark, I was ordered aft on the quarter-deck, and the captain went in to the admiral, and asked permission to flog me; but the admiral refused, observing, that he did not admire the system of flogging young gentlemen:  and, moreover, that in the present instance he saw no reason for it.  So I escaped; but I led a sad life of it, and often did I pray for the return of my own ship.

Among other exercises of the fleet, we used always to reef topsails at sunset, and this was usually done by all the ships at the same moment, waiting the signal from the admiral to begin; in this exercise there was much foolish rivalry, and very serious accidents, as well as numerous punishments, took place, in consequence of one ship trying to excel another.  On these occasions our captain would bellow and foam at the mouth like a mad bull, up and down the quarter-deck.

One fine evening the signal was made, the topsails lowered and the men laying out on the yards, when a poor fellow from the main-topsail yard fell, in his trying to lay out; and, striking his shoulder against the main channels, broke his arm.  I saw he was disabled, and could not swim:  and, perceiving him sinking, I darted overboard, and held him until a boat came and picked us up; as the water was smooth, and there was little wind, and the ship not going more than two miles an hour, I incurred little risk.

When I came on deck I found the captain fit for Bedlam, because the accident had delayed the topsails going to the mast-head quite as quick as the rest of the fleet.  He threatened to flog the man for falling overboard, and ordered me off the quarter-deck.  This was great injustice to both of us.  Of all the characters I ever met with, holding so high a rank in the service, this man was the most unpleasant.

Shortly after, we were ordered to Minorca to refit; here, to my great joy, I found my own ship, and I “shook the dust off my feet,” and quitted the flag with a light heart.  During the time I had been on board, the admiral had never said, “How do ye do?” to me—­nor did he say, “Good-bye,” when I quitted.  Indeed, I should have left the ship without ever having been honoured with his notice, if it had not happened, that a favourite pointer of his was a shipmate of mine.  I recollect hearing of a man who boasted that the king had spoken to him; and when it was asked what he had said, replied, “He desired me to get out of his way.”