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Marryat, Frederick, 1792-1848

"Or, The Naval Officer"


About eleven o'clock, the captains who were to be our Minos and our
Rhadamanthus, made their appearance, and we all agreed that we did not
much like the "cut of their jibs." At twelve o'clock the first
name was called. The "desperate youth" tried to pluck up a little
courage--he cleared his throat, pulled up his shirt collar, touched
his neck-handkerchief, and seizing his cocked hat and journals,
boldly followed the messenger into the captain's cabin, where three
grave-looking gentlemen, in undress uniform, awaited him. They were
seated at a round table; a clerk was at the elbow of the president;
Moore's navigation, that wise redoubtable, lay before them; together
with a nautical almanack, a slate and pencil, ink and paper. The
trembling middy advanced to the table, and having most respectfully
deposited his journals and certificates of sobriety and good conduct,
was desired to sit down. The first questions were merely theoretical;
and although in the gun-room, or in any other company, he would have
acquitted himself with ease, he was so abashed and confounded, that he
lost his head entirely, trembled at the first question, stared at the
second, and having no answer to make to the third, was dismissed, with
directions "to go to sea six months longer."
He returned to us with a most woe-begone countenance. I never saw a
poor creature in greater mental torment. I felt for him the more, as
I knew not how soon his case might be my own.


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