And James Gubbins invariably did the worst for himself possible. I do wish that a special artist had seen him trying to help sling a mule on one occasion, and endeavouring to take a similar animal to the place appointed on shore for it on another. Words can do no justice to those scenes. Another adventure, however, I will try to describe. A naval officer engaged in transport came up to Tom Strachan, who was in charge of half his company on fatigue duty, and said-- "Look here, do you see that steamer with a green funnel? Well, there are stores on board, for your regiment mostly. A whole lot of shells have to be landed this afternoon, and all my men are at work at that. I wish you would take that lighter, and let your fellows go off to the steamer and unload it. We should bring you the stores, as a rule, for you to carry up from the jetty, only we are short-handed." "All right," said Tom. The lighter was propelled by large oars, or sweeps, and James Gubbins found there was yet another trial for him in this weary world--that of endeavouring to row with one of these things. But he was so clumsy, and impeded the others to such an extent, that they pushed him on one side and told him to keep quiet. When they got alongside, a rope was thrown up and caught by a sailor on deck, and Strachan went up a rope ladder to see exactly what had to be done. The stores were as yet in the hold, and the first job would be to hoist them out of it; so the lighter would not be wanted alongside for some time. The sailors let it drop astern, and then made it fast. "Now then, men, you are wanted on deck; look alive!" cried Strachan. The sergeant in the lighter looked puzzled how to get on board for a moment; but seeing a grin on a sailor's face, and at the same time observing a rope hanging from the taffrail close to him, he seized, pulled at it, and finding it firm at the top end, swarmed up it presently. It was not far to go, or a difficult operation, so the others followed. Then they manned the crane, by which a chain with a big hook to it was lowered into the hold, as if to fish for something. And a bale having been caught, it was wound up, slewed round, and deposited on the deck. When this had been going on a little time Strachan called out-- "Where's Gubbins?" "Gubbins, sir," said the sergeant; "is he not here? No, he is not. Where can he have got to? Gubbins!" He went aft and looked into the lighter; there was no one there, and he was turning away again, when he heard a voice in tremulous accents crying-- "Help! Help! Do pull me up, some one, or send a boat. He will have me--I know he will! He will jump presently; and if he doesn't, I can't hold on much longer. Help! Oh, lor! Help!"