"Well, Roberts," said the lieutenant, "you need not make yourself uncomfortable, nor set up the bantam cock hackles round your neck, and you need not go to the grindstone to sharpen your spurs, for we shall not have the luck to see anything of the rajah, who by this time knows that it is his best policy to keep out of the way. Will you take any more breakfast?" "No, thank you, sir," said Bob, rising, for this was a hint to go about his business; and he went on deck. "Mornin', sir," said old Dick, pulling at his forelock, and giving one leg a kick out behind. "Morning, Dick. Don't you wish you were along with the hunting-party?" Old Dick walked to the side, sprinkled the water with a little tobacco juice, and came back. "That's the same colour as them Malay chaps, sir," he said, "nasty dirty beggars." "Dirty, Dick? Why they are always bathing and swimming." "Yes," said Dick in a tone of disgust, "but they never use no soap." "Well, what of that?" said Bob. "You don't suppose that makes any difference?" "Makes no difference?" said the old sailor; "why it makes all the difference, sir. When I was a young 'un, my old mother used to lather the yaller soap over my young head till it looked like a yeast tub in a baker's cellar. Lor' a mussy! the way she used to shove the soap in my eyes and ears and work her fingers round in 'em, was a startler. She'd wash, and scrub, and rasp away, and then swab me dry with a rough towel--and it was a rough 'un, mind yer--till I shone again. Why, I was as white as a lily where I wasn't pink; and a young lady as come to stay at the squire's, down in our parts, blessed if she didn't put me in a picter she was painting, and call me a village beauty. It's the soap as does it, and a rale love of cleanliness. Bah, look at 'em! They're just about the colour o' gingerbread; while look at me!" Bob looked at the old fellow searchingly, to see if he was joking, and then finding that he was perfectly sincere, the middy burst into a hearty roar of laughter. For long years of exposure to sun and storm had burned and stained Dick into a mahogany brown, warmed up with red of the richest crimson. In fact, a Malay had rather the advantage of him in point of colour. "Ah, you may laugh," he growled. "I dessay, sir, you thinks it's werry funny; but if you was to go and well soap a young Malay he'd come precious different, I can tell you." "But somebody did try to wash a blackamoor white," said Bob. "Tom Hood says so, in one of his books." "Well, and did they get him white, sir?" asked Dick. "No, I think not," said Bob. "I almost forget, but I think they gave him such a bad cold that he died." "That Tom Hood--was he any relation o' Admiral Hood, sir?" "No, I think not, Dick." "Then he wasn't much account being a landsman, I s'pose, and he didn't understand what he was about. He didn't use plenty o' soap." "Oh yes, he did, Dick; because I remember he says, a lady gave some:--