As the reader is, no doubt, by this time pretty well versed in all
the dialogue of parting lovers, I shall not intrude upon his or her
patience with a repetition of that which has been much too often
repeated, and is equally familiar to the prince and the ploughman. I
should as soon think of describing the Devil's Punch Bowl, on the road
to Portsmouth, where I arrived two days after my appointment.
I put up at Billett's, at the George, as a matter of course, because
it was the resort of all the naval aristocracy, and directly opposite
to the admiral's office. The first person for whom I made my kind
inquiries was my captain elect; but he herded not with his brother
epaulettes. He did not live at the George, nor did he mess at the
Crown; he was not at the Fountain, nor the Parade Coffee-house; and
the Blue Posts ignored him; but he was to be heard of at the Star and
Garter, on the tip of Portsmouth Point. He did not even live there,
but generally resided on board. This does not savour well; I never
like your captains who live on board their ships in harbour; no ship
can be comfortable, for no one can do as he pleases, which is the life
and soul of a man-of-war, when in port.
To the Star and Garter I went, and asked for Captain G. I hoped I
should not find him here; for this house had been, time out of mind,
the rendezvous of warrant-officers, mates, and midshipmen. Here,
however, he was; I sent up my card, and was admitted to his presence.
Pages:
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298