When I afterwards heard of Chatham as being the universal _depot_ of "ladies who love wisely and not too well," rogues and Jews, I could not help thinking of my writing-desk, and adding to the list, Jewesses also. About a week after, we were still lying at Sheerness, and I had totally forgotten the innocent-looking Jemima. Mr Pridhomme was smoking in a lover-like and melancholy fashion, against orders, a short pipe in the midshipmen's berth. As the ashes accumulated, he became at a loss for a tobacco-stopper, and I very good-naturedly handed him over the broken, broad-topped, vulgar-looking pencil-case, the gift of the adorable Jemima. His apathy, at the sight of this relic of love, dispersed like the smoke of his pipe. "Where did you get this, younker?" he cried, swelling with passion, in the true turkey-cock style. "It was given to me as a keepsake by Miss Jemima," said I, very quietly. "It's a lie--you stole it." "You old scoundrel!" "You young villain!" "Take that!" roared my opponent; and the bread-basket, with its fragmental cargo of biscuits, came full in my face, very considerately putting bread into my mouth for his supposed injury. "Take that!" said I, seizing the rum-bottle. "No, he sha'n't," said Pigtop, the master's mate, laying hold of the much-prized treasure, "let him take anything but that." So I flung the water-jug at his head. We were just proceeding to handicuffs, when the master-at-arms, hearing the riot, opened the door. We then cooled upon it, and a truce ensued. Explanations followed the truce, and an apology, on his part, the explanation; for which apology I very gladly gave him the pencil-case, that I had promised to keep as long as I lived, and a heartache at the same time. The poor fellow had given the faithful Jemima this mutable love-gift three days before it came into my possession, on which occasion they had broken a crooked sixpence together. I moralised upon this, and came to the conclusion, that, whatever a tailor might be, a sailor is no match for a tailor's daughter, born and bred up at Chatham. Now, I have nothing wherewith to amuse the reader about the mischievous tricks that were played upon me in my entrance into my naval life. The clews of my hammock were not reefed. I was not lowered down by the head into a bucket of cold water, nor sent anywhere with a foolish message by a greater fool than myself. The exemptions from these usual persecutions I attribute to my robust and well-grown frame; my disposition so easily evinced to do battle on the first occasion that offered itself; and, lastly, my well-stocked purse, and the evident consideration shown to me by the captain and the first-lieutenant.