“When we gets to the next town, up comes a constable to the midshipman, supposing as how he was in command of the draft—up comes the constable, and says, says he, ‘Capting, I arrests you for a salt and battery, in behalf of these here men, as has committed it,’ meaning, you understand, the affair of the gate. Well, the midshipman, all ripe for frolic and fun himself, pulls a long face, and says gruffly, that his men hadn’t been engaged in no salt, or no battery; but that they was ready at all times to fight for their country, and asks him whereaway that same English battery lay, as he would answer for the lads’ salting it quick enough. Then the lawyer as was standing with his hands behind him, up and tells him that ‘it’s for a trespass in the case.’ ‘Oh! a trespass in the gate—you mean,’ says the midshipman; but just then the lieutenant comes up to see what’s the muss, and bids me put on my jacket, for d’ye see, I had squared off to measure the constable for a pair of black eyes—hang me if the feller didn’t turn as white as a sheet. ‘Put on your jacket, sir,’ says he, ‘and leave the man alone;’ and then turning to the midshipman, ‘Mr. ——, take the men down to the tavern and splice the main-brace, while I walk up to the justice’s with the gentle man to settle this affair. And, hark’ee, ye rascals,’ says he, ‘don’t disgrace the name of blue jacket in this quiet village, but behave yourselves till I return.’ Well, he and the lawyer walks up to the justice’s, and there they three takes a glass of wine together, and that’s the last we hearn of that ere business.