[Sidenote: Dec. 25.] On Christmas Day we got our usual tow out of the harbour, and made sail for England. Two days later we unbent cables and stowed anchors. After a while it came to my turn to dine with the Captain. One of my facetious messmates thought it good fun to give my little prisoner a run. By instinct he made his way to the Captain’s cabin. Seated on the deck, surveying the apartment, the Captain spotted him, and ordered the sentry to throw the beast overboard. On the first move of the marine, the monkey with a bound was on my shoulder, his little hands clasped round my forehead, chattering and grinning; there being no mistake as to the owner. I suppose the Captain was moved by the affection of the little fellow. We were dismissed. Nothing of importance occurred during our long voyage. On February 26 made the Lizard at daylight and bent cables. We had a chain-cable, which was only used once; but every month we had to rouse the thing on deck and knock the shackling-bolts out, in order to anoint them with some white mixture. [Sidenote: 1825. Feb. 27.] We ran through the Needles, saluted flag, and came to at Spithead. CHAPTER III THE _TWEED_ [Sidenote: 1825. Feb. 28.] The _Tweed_ at Spithead became one of the Channel Squadron, and commenced refit. First visit was to my brother Tom at the College. Landing in the dockyard, our shortest route lay through the lower-mast and boat-houses. In the latter we found one of our masters’ mates returning condemned, and drawing new stores. He, too, wanted to see my brother; so, leaving the stores to the care of the warrant officer, he joined us. I must attempt to describe this good-tempered salt, Peter Dobree by name. He was from Guernsey. Although not too young, he was the junior of our masters’ mates; and had a shock head of red hair which protruded from under his hat. I was told that, when on board the hulk during our outfit, if he saw a child about the deck unprotected, he would imitate its cry and a dog’s snarl so closely that half the wives would rush to the rescue. It did not matter how often he repeated the joke, the effect was the same. When he got leave to go on shore late in the evening, he scorned the use of a boat; he would jump overboard and swim to the logs--this, too, in the winter months. He kept a change of raiment at the “Keppel’s Head.” Dobree followed us to the College, where I found Tom. It was winter; we could only make a short tour. Dobree, passing the area near Dr. Inman’s, espied a large round dish of setting cream. He was down the steps and his mouth in the cream, when the dairymaid pushed his head in, to which the cream adhered. It was just closing time as he escaped through the storehouse doors. [Sidenote: Mar. 3.]