upon, and beyond it a plot of grass about twenty-five yards wide, in the centre of which was a flagstaff, at whose truck a flag floated in all weathers from sunrise till sunset. This piece of bunting was, as a rule, a Union Jack in very disreputable condition, but on the anniversaries of victories won by our fleet, a grand one, magnificent in the brilliancy of its colours, was substituted; on two occasions in each year the brighter banner was hung half-mast high; these were, the anniversaries of the death of Nelson and of Collingwood.

It was a goodly sight of a summer evening to see these two old warriors sitting on the verandah with a table between them, on which was a decanter of old Jamaica rum, two tumblers, two glasses, a large snuffbox, and a tobacco jar, for our veterans were addicted to tobacco in both forms. Long clay pipes, called “Aldermans," were those they always smoked, and as the curling smoke wreathed itself over their heads, there was an expression in each of their weather-beaten faces which said as plainly as words, "I am enjoying the ease I have earned."

"Time for a fresh glass," says Lieutenant Swan.

"Time for a fresh glass," repeats Captain Cinnamon. And both pour out exactly the same quantity of rum, and add to it precisely an equal measure of water. These worthies, in fact, drunk exactly the same quantity, each sip being imbibed apparently at the same moment, for they always seemed to exhaust and replenish their glasses at the same time; it would be hard, indeed, to say if they did not pursue exactly the same course with their tobacco and snuff.

"Come, Swan," says Captain Cinnamon, "tell me that story about the First Lord and the snuff, it's a month at least since I heard it, and I want to have a laugh."

"Yes, I believe it is a month. Heigh-ho! who would have thought it? Well, here goes, provided always you will give your exploits in the mud when your fellows landed to take that battery."

This arrangement being assented to, Lieutenant Swan, after settling himself in the most comfortable position he could select, laid down his pipe, and, blowing his nose, commenced.

"When I was third lieutenant on board the Arethusa, we were stationed on the Halifax and West India station-that is, as you know, we spent the winter in the islands to escape the ice, and the summer in Halifax to escape yellow jack, at such times as we were not cruising along the coast of the United States, which was at least two months out of three. Lord! how it does blow along the whole of that coast from Cape Hatteras to Cape Race, all the year round, except in the summer months!" Here the Captain gave an assenting nod. "It was about the end of October, and the weather was hazy but calm. I had just come on deck after lunch, when an orderly informed me that my presence was required by the Captain. I was not a bit nervous in going down the companion, for you see, Cinnamon, I hadn't been up to any larks lately; and it's ever a guilty conscience that makes us cowards." Here the Captain gave another approving nod. "Well, our captain told

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me that, from information he had received, there was no doubt that there was in these waters a small fore and aft schooner-rigged privateer, which had lately been playing the very mischief with our commerce along the coast of New Brunswick, and as the weather was thick and calm I had better take my boat, silently run along the coast for twenty or more miles, and, if she was not too formidable, use my utmost efforts for her destruction or capture. If firing should be reported,' he added, 'I will send you assistance. Under any circumstance, unless it should come on a gale of wind, you will find us here at noon the day after tomorrow. Mr Swan, I would not give you this important duty if I had not great confidence in your discretion and courage.' These are the very words he said—the very words." Here came two approving nods from Cinnamon. "Now, off my lad, and the quicker the better; but not a word to any one of what your business is."

"A few minutes after my boat was piped away, and ten minutes from the time my interview with the Captain terminated, the frigate was out of sight in the haze.

"An hour and a half's pull brought us within sight of the shore, when, as I turned our boat's head to the westward, I cautioned the crew to keep their ears open, and not to speak a word above a whisper. There was little need of this, for there was not a man among them who didn't know that we were likely to have work on hand soon. Those were the days to be at sea, and no mistake; those were the times when an officer had to command sailors, and not a lot of land-lubbers; the

service had not gone to the devil then." The worthy narrator was becoming more and more excited, while his companion nodded and nodded again with more and more emphasis. "We hugged the coast all that night, and still the weather was mild, with scarcely a cat's-paw upon the water. Just before break of day we pulled into a cove for the double purpose of letting the crew have an opportunity of cooking breakfast, and of enabling me to survey the coast from the nearest high ground. Beyond a point six miles off I made out with my glass the spars of a craft exactly such as we were after; and, judging from their appearance, I concluded she must be about one hundred and fifty tons burden. From her peak hung the Yankee flag, so whether she was the right schooner or not, she could not be a wrong one, for we were at war then with the United States. I said nothing to the men about what I had discovered, but told them that, as there might be work to do after sunset, they had better rest awhile, but on no account to leave the boat. I then returned to my point of observation, but as the haze had thickened, I was unable to see more of her. As this schooner was a larger one than I had anticipated, I resolved to wait till dark, and take her by surprise. Nothing like surprise and night work to equalise numbers-nothing like it." And the Captain nodded his approval.

"As soon as the light suited, we again got afloat, and made the best of our way across the intervening bay. When only a mile more had to be pulled, I ordered the crew to lie on their oars and look to their arms. Every

man-jack of them knew what this meant, and if one could have seen their faces, he would have noted the true pluck, the devil-may-care expression, that told there was not one among them that would not have gone to Davy Jones' locker sooner than show the white feather. There never were, and never will be, such sailors as our fleet was manned with in those days." Here came in sundry nods from the listener. "Or officers either," said the Captain.

"Or officers either," echoed the Lieutenant.

"We've had but two glasses," observed Cinnamon. "But one," said the Lieutenant.

"Then make it one," rejoined the Marine.

So they replenished their glasses and pipes, and took an interval; after which, the stereotyped question was asked, "Where did I leave off?"

"Where the boat's crew looked to their arms, prepared for action."

"So I did; good!" I-who, as the reader will find, was privileged by my position to be often a silent partaker in these interviews-always regarded this question as a test of the attention the auditor had been paying to the story.

"Now, my hearties, at it again! not a word for your lives; in ten minutes more you may sing God save the King till you are black in the throat."

"At this time I noticed that the breeze was springing up. It was light still; but I did not like it, for it was northerly, making this a lea shore. But there was no time to think. Fifty yards ahead loomed the schooner; closer to her we drew; twenty-five yards only severed