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."
My intercourse with the admiral was about as friendly and flattering.
Pompey and I were on the poop. I presented him with a piece of hide
to gnaw, by way of pastime. The admiral came on the poop, and seeing
Pompey thus employed, asked who gave him that piece of hide? The
yeoman of the signals said it was me. The admiral shook his long
spy-glass at me, and said, "By G----, sir, if ever you give Pompey a
bit of hide again, I will flog you."
This is all I have to say of the admiral, and all the admiral ever
said to me.
Chapter VIII
Since laws were made for every degree,
I wonder we haven't better company on Tyburn tree.
"_Beggar's Opera_."
While I was on board of this ship two poor men were executed for
mutiny. The scene was far more solemn to me than anything I had ever
beheld. Indeed it was the first thing of the kind I had ever been
present at. When we hear of executions on shore, we are always
prepared to read of some foul atrocious crime, some unprovoked and
unmitigated offence against the laws of civilized society, which a
just and merciful government cannot allow to pass unpunished.
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