"Affirmative flag over church pendant," signalled they, to show the man was recovered. "Thank you" (by the same process), replied the Stinger. Sergeant Spine never rejoined his own ship, as upon being taken on board the Blister, he fell upon his knees and piteously requested her commander "not to send him back to hell;" so upon arrival in Hong-Kong he was despatched to the hospital-ship, where he was declared to be insane, and sent home. He was received in Portsmouth barracks as a martyr, and his stripes restored to him upon parade, but he never got quite right again mentally, and was soon afterwards pensioned off, when he retired to his native town, and went into business as a dealer in pickles and other luxuries, being enabled to start a shop with the money he had wrung out of the men and boys on board the Stinger. He still does everything according to regulation, and his only sorrow is that he cannot induce his wife to submit to his eccentricity in this line. "I won't lay the breakfast by revolutions to please him, blest if I will!" observed Mrs. Spine, and her friends highly approve of this show of spirit. Much to the disgust of his crew, Puffeigh kept by the Blister until they entered Hong-Kong harbour. His men imagined that every hour's delay shortened their stay in port, so they grumbled and growled after the manner of men-of-war's-men, and wished the disabled ship in Davy Jones's locker, forgetting all the time that duty, not his own pleasure, kept their captain by the disabled craft. They wrongfully accused him that time, although it mattered little to him what they said or did, provided he did not hear them openly express their opinions. The mails were received and distributed in the manner before described, and Thompson's letters returned to the post-office with the words, "Dead. Killed by Chinese Tartars," written across them, as every one believed that Jerry was no more an inhabitant of the earth. Mary Ann received hers, and grieved most sincerely for the loss of one she loved better than any other being in the world. Miss Pferdscreptern, who also had a letter returned to her, after looking at the fatal words for about an hour, heaved a deep sigh and ejaculated, "Hombogs he tusant go for to gits todt, Scherry is not ein narr," then reclined in her chair, and woman-like indulged in a cry,--observing to her neighbours, "Ach, he vos ein goot veller, und I skall never gets ein oder mann likes him, ach Gott!" The poor girl mourned the loss of her lover for above a year, when one day the skipper of a coasting schooner solemnly proposed to her, and she soon afterwards became Mrs. Captain Schwartz.