Before going further with the narration let me describe a scene, not an unusual one in those days, which took place on the passage from Auckland. There were certain epithets which were considered fair and lawful to use, and which men did not resent, on the other hand there was one term only used if he who was delivering the oration was prepared to back his opinion by muscular arguments. Our ship was fitted with patent reefing topsails, but as most good things have drawbacks to them this particular main topsail had developed a habit of carrying its halliards away, and their replacement usually caused some little trouble. For one thing, it was an “all hands job,” and with the scanty rest the crew were permitted, this did not tend to increase the smoothness of current matters either for officers or men. Upon this particular evening the halliards had parted and the yard came down with a run. As the chain passed round the yard it was necessary it should be kept clear of turns to ensure smooth working of the patent, and this was a job of some little difficulty. The second mate and a fair number of men were aloft reeving the chains when one man in the top incurred the wrath of the mate, who was superintending operations from the quarter-deck. He yelled out to his subordinate aloft: “Mr. King, kick that son of a ---- out of the top.” King on his part addressed some drastic remarks to the delinquent, but did not appear to consider it necessary to do more, so the work proceeded until the man who had been “mentioned” came down the rigging saying loudly: “I’ve never been called son of a ---- before and won’t stand it.” That was enough for the mate. As the man stepped on deck he was met by a straight one, two, in the face, and then began a rough-and-tumble about the end of which there could be no doubt. The captain came along to see what was going on, and the mate sang out: “Put this man in irons, sir.” The captain did so, and poor Canadian Bill, as he was called, was duly ironed and dropped for security down the lazarette hatch, where for some days he endured the scanty bread and bitter waters of affliction. Needless to say he lost no time in deserting on arrival in port, which no doubt fitted in with the higher policy of the master, who did not wish to retain the services of men at high colonial wages during a long stay in port when the absolutely necessary routine work could be carried on by apprentices, the cargo of course being stowed by stevedores.