When, then, the general appeared on deck one day, in his new uniform, which he got of Fox in New York, and which he verily believed necessary to the great undertakings he was about to engage in, the first Lieutenant approached him, and with great gravity of manner, said, “Your Excellency has doubtless heard of the custom which renders it necessary that all great officials crossing the line for the first time pay their respects to Neptune, king of the sea and father of barbers, who will come on board and shave you to your satisfaction.  And when this ceremony is over the officials then display their skill at riding the flying horse, the success or failure of which is invariably held a good or bad omen of the success or failure of their mission.”

The general listened with curious attention to these remarks.  “I own, Mr. Lieutenant,” said he, in reply, “that if you approached me on matters of government or something that concerns the politics of our country, there you will find me at home; but as to these affairs of the sea, I know as little about them as your village parson.  As to riding a flying horse, I will leave that to Mr. Tickler, my secretary; for though no man will say I am not skilled in riding, I can tell you I have been twice thrown by my horse Battle, and care not to have more of my limbs broken.  But by all means let this Neptune you speak of be introduced to me, and if the shaving can be dispensed with, so much the better, since I am not fond of ceremonies, and may have need of my beard in dealing with this savage king.”

“Your Excellency reasons well,” rejoined the Lieutenant; “but judging from the fame he has already acquired, and which is as familiar to us as our school-day primers, I feel that he would not have it said of him that he was a whit behind his many predecessors, who held themselves honored in being the recipients of this ceremony, which, in truth, is considered another feather in their dignity.  But this I will say, that where secretaries are present, the custom has been so modified as to vouchsafe the shaving to them, while riding the flying horse is strictly reserved for the highest officials.”

“What you say of my fame, Mr. Lieutenant, is just what many others have said, and may be set down to my honesty as a politician.  And, as you say it is well to look to my dignity, I will confer with my secretary and hear what he says concerning this affair of the shaving.”  Having returned this answer, the general sought his secretary and recounted to him, in private, the conversation that had taken place between himself and the lieutenant, upon which the learned critic swore by Saint Patrick, and a dozen more equally good saints, that no man should trifle with his beard, of which he was as scrupulous as many of our more fashionable clergymen, and, indeed, kept it highly polished with daily applications of Rushton’s best pomades.  He also declared that however ready he might be to render service either