"I'll tell you what, mate, there's just this difference between you and me in this matter," I heard Fleming remark; "you says a flying-machine can be made; so do I. You may make fifty flying-machines, or a hundred, or five hundred for that matter, all different, and with all sorts of wheels, and cogs, and what not, which nobody can understand; but when they are made, what I have to ask you, mate, is, will they fly? It's there you and I differ." Having thus delivered himself, Fleming drew himself up with a triumphant look at his adversary. Now, Pincott was a very quiet man with all his eccentricities, so he merely answered-- "It will be enough for me if one can be made to fly. That's all I argue for." "It never has been done yet, and, to my mind, never will," answered Fleming, sturdily; "though I have heard of a man who made his son put on a pair of wings which he had fabricated, and shoved him off the top of a high wall, and when the lad, as was to be expected, reached the ground, he broke his leg." This was a story told of Pincott, who, however, on all occasions stoutly denied that he was the culprit. Another story against Pincott was, that when first iron vessels were introduced, he declared that it was impossible they could swim. "No, no," it was said he said, "birds can fly, so I don't see why men shouldn't; but iron always has sunk, and, to my mind, it always will sink." Fleming, who told the story, used to wind up with the remark, "But then you see, mate, there's no rule without an exception." As these disputes never led to any disagreeable consequences, they served to beguile away many a weary hour at sea. But I have said enough to describe the character of our inferior officers. They were both thoroughly good seamen and steady men.