"Did you ever see sich a fee-nomer-nile?" observed the captain of the foretop. "Vy, it's a regler red-hot swab. Did he go ashore to av his edd dyed?" "No; he's got a wig on, can't ye see? It's the capting's wig, wot the steward airs sometimes. It's a theatre wig." "Pshaw! Do you think the captain is agoin' to lend the acting bosun his 'ed dress. Besides, whoever heerd of a captain in the Rile Navy wearin' a red wig?" These and similar observations caused the commander to seek the advice of the little surgeon, who thereupon sent for Mr. Thompson, and after a few preliminary remarks asked him why he wore a wig. "Well, you see, sir, I don't like looking like a Chinaman on duty; and as the captain has been good enough to lend me this, I wear it until I can get one more suited to me." "That's right enough, but it is a very poisonous colour, and will ruin the growth of your hair. It would be a thousand pities to spoil that--" Mr. Thompson looked at the doctor for a moment, but as no smile illuminated his face, Jerry concluded he was serious in his advice. "But is it pisonous to wear for a few hours every day?" "Deadly. I can show you the picture of a case, if you like to step down to my surgery." "No thankee, sir; I don't like that place, with all politeness to you. I'll just take this wig back to the steward, as I don't care to pison my hair." Mr. Thompson accordingly doffed his conspicuous adornment, and went about his duty with his uniform cap pulled tightly over his forehead, which gave him the appearance of having been bonneted. The mail arrived that evening, and to his astonishment, Jerry received the following mysterious communication: "She who arth fix her art on the Wil alway tinder proav Wil dreme of yew by day or nite An treasure up your lov Think not tho ragin sees do part She wil beleaf your not untro Sheal wayt for the in spit of hawl Not dew as others dew." "No name. No date. Portsmouth postmark. This is a rewiwer from Mary Ann," cried Thompson. "Well, if she waits until I get home, she'll have a warrant-officer instead of an able seaman for a husband. But I ain't pleased with her going into poetry; besides, she don't mention my name. However, I'll write her a line by way of reply," saying which he proceeded to scrawl off the following: "Dear Mary Ann, I've got your poe-try; Keep up your pluck and dry your eye; I'll anchor alongside you by-and-by." This elegant effusion he addressed-- MISS MARY ANN ROSS, Care of MRS. SHEVER, Portsmouth. And having posted it, turned his attention to official matters, and thought no more of his old flame. Mrs. Shever, having written the stanzas, which Thompson supposed came from her sister, did not scruple to appropriate the reply to herself; so Mary Ann never received this last love-offering from her old admirer, who was still in blissful ignorance of her being "his no more." CHAPTER XXIV.