Her history was as follows. It had three eras:--she had been a lady's-maid, in town; and, in this situation, acquiring a few of the practices of "high life," she had become something else on the town; and, finally, Mrs Skrimmage. With a view of awing his unruly associates into respect, Mr Skrimmage (as well as his wife) was particularly nice in his dress and his conversation, and affected the gentleman, as she did the lady--this generally answered pretty well; but sometimes unpleasant circumstances would occur, to which his interest compelled Mr Skrimmage to submit. It may be as well here to add, that, at the end of the war, Mr Skrimmage applied for his promotion for long service, and, obtaining it, added his purser's half-pay to the interest of his accumulated capital, and retired from active service. The steward and his boy entering the gun-room with two enormous black tea-kettles, put an end to the boisterous amusement. It was the signal for tea. "Hurrah for Scaldchops!" cried the master tailor, rising from the game, which was now abandoned. A regiment of cups and saucers lined the two sides of the long table, and a general scramble ensued for seats. "I say, Mr _Cribbage_," cried an old master's-mate, to the caterer, who had entered shortly after the tea-kettles, and assumed his place at the end of the table, "what sort of stuff do you call this?" "What do you mean to imply, sir?" replied Mr Skrimmage, with a pompous air. "Mean to ply?--why, I mean to ply, that there's damned little tea in this here water; why, I've seen gin as dark a colour as this." "Steward," said Mr Skrimmage, turning his head over his shoulder towards him, "have you not put the established allowance into the tea-pot?" "Yes, sir," replied the steward; "a tea-spoonful for every gentleman, and one for coming up." "You hear, gentlemen," said Mr Skrimmage. "Hear!--yes, but we don't taste. I should like to see it sarved out," continued the master's-mate. "Sir," replied Mr Skrimmage, "I must take the liberty to observe to you, that that is a responsibility never intrusted to the steward. The established allowance is always portioned out by Mrs Skrimmage herself." "Damn Mrs Skrimmage," said a voice from the other end of the table. "What!" cried the indignant husband; "what did I hear? Who was that?" "'Twas this young gentleman, Mr Caterer," said a malicious lad, pointing to one opposite. "Me, sir!" replied the youngster, recollecting the game they had just been playing; "you lie, sir." "Who then, sir?" "Black Cap--Black Cap," pointing to another. "I damn Mrs Skrimmage! You lie, sir." "Who then, sir?" "Red Cap--Red Cap." "I damn Mrs Skrimmage? You lie, sir." And thus was the accusation bandied about the table, to the great amusement of the whole party, except the caterer, who regretted having taken any notice of what had been said.