In those days I owned a bull-dog of marked personality. He never fought unless he were attacked; but his favourite recreation was to rush at full speed, head down, at every dog bigger than himself. The instant he caught sight of a big dog, he shot away like a projectile discharged from a gun; nothing stopped or turned him; and the unsuspecting object {146} of the manifestation would go down like a ninepin. Then, unless he were detained by reprisals, Butcher would return to his master with the air of a dog who knew his duty and who had done it. At that time the streets of London were haunted by Italian image-venders, who carried the Twelve Apostles and other sacred statuettes neatly arranged upon a board, which the merchant balanced on his head. One of those pious venders was walking directly in the headlong path of Butcher, who flashed between his legs. Down came the Apostles, who were dashed to fragments, for which I had to pay about £12 to the pedlar of saints. When my dog thought I wanted a hansom, he used to scramble into it, jump upon the seat, and sit there panting with his tongue hanging out. He performed this feat one day when an old gentleman, without noticing him, had hailed a hansom. The old gentleman, climbing slowly into the cab, suddenly saw the dog on the seat, and was so startled that he tumbled backwards and knocked his head on the pavement. In 1876, having passed in torpedo work in the _Vernon_, I applied for the appointment of second in command in a big snip, holding then, as I hold now, that every officer who hopes to obtain flag rank should gain experience in detailed routine work and in handling and organising men, which can only be acquired as first lieutenant or commander. The second in command of a man-of-war gains invaluable experience. He must always look ahead in order to _prevent_ things occurring which would cause confusion or discomfort. He has literally not one minute to himself in the day; thinking ahead, waylaying the wishes of his captain, and providing not only for what _will_ occur but for what _may_ occur, and being ready to encounter the constant unforeseen emergencies inseparable from life at sea in a man-of-war.