So occupied had Mr Farmer been all the day before with taking in Irish beef and pork, for the West Indian storehouses, and extra water to supply any of the convoy that might fall short of that necessary article, that he had totally forgotten the sand expedition, and it was eight in the evening, just at the time that I was, in the words of the song, "Far, far at sea," that he was reminded of it. Mr Silva, the second-lieutenant, begged as a favour, that a boat might be lent him, just to put him alongside the _Roebuck_, one of the two eighteen-gun brigs that was to accompany us as whippers-in to the convoy. As the captain was not expected on board till late, Mr Farmer had not much hesitation in granting the request, with the usual "Take the dinghy, Mr Silva." But just then the Atlantic had been beforehand with him. The dinghy had not returned. She had been last seen at the sandy nook to which she had been sent. The barge and cutter were immediately manned and sent to look for me. They easily got to the place where I was seen loading, and found the sand disturbed, and nothing else. They returned with some difficulty against the head-wind, and, of course, made a most disheartening report. When the captain returned he was dreadfully angry. Well, as I crept up the side sneakingly, not very well knowing whether I were to enact the hero or the culprit, I concocted a speech that was doomed to share the fate of "the lost inventions." I saw the captain and Mr Farmer pacing the deck, but both decidedly with their duty faces on. Touching my hat very submissively, I said sheepishly, "I've come on board, sir, and--" "You young blackguard! I've a great mind--" "To do what, Mr Farmer?" said Captain Reud, interposing. Now I can assure the reader, twenty-five years ago, when we had nearly cleared the seas of every enemy, and the British pennant was really a whip, which had flogged every opponent of the ocean, the "young gentlemen" were sometimes flogged too, and more often called young blackguards than by any other title of honour. All this is altered for the better now. We don't abuse each other, or flog among ourselves so much--and, the next war, I make no doubt, what we have spared to ourselves we shall bestow upon our enemies. I mention this, that the reader may not suppose that I am coarse in depicting the occasional looseness of the naval manners of the times. "To punish him for staying out all night without leave." "That's a great fault, certainly," said the captain, slily. "Pray, Mr Rattlin, what _induced_ you to commit it?" "Please, sir, I wasn't induced at all. I was regularly blown out, and now I am as regularly blown--." "Come, sir, I'll be your friend, and not permit you to finish your sentence. If it's a fair question, Mr Rattlin, may I presume to ask where you slept last night?" "With the two Misses O'Tooles," said I; for really the young ladies were uppermost in my thoughts.