Other bo'suns I have known intimately by being shipmates with them, good men as one would wish to sail with, but never one that came quite up to this paragon among sailor-men. For some were perfect in all their ways as far as "sailorizing" was concerned, yet could not get the work out of their men; others were good drivers, but were weak in their technical knowledge--at least, not quite so good at certain work as some of the seamen under them; others were lazy, and one especially do I remember, although a splendid seaman, was so great a coward, that he was a by-word fore and aft. He was an Alsatian from Metz, who had somehow got to sea, and after serving several years in British ships, had become a bo'sun, a post for which his one defect eminently disqualified him. And he never learned to talk intelligible English. Sailors can understand almost any jargon that is spoken at sea under the guise of English, but this man's talk was too funny for anything. He would come to the fo'c'sle door as the watch was turning out, and say, "Now, poys, gum lonk. Ve shrub und shrabe mit sant unt racks alla now;" which, being interpreted, was, "Now, boys, come along. We'll scrub and scrape with sand and canvas to-day." Poor fellow, his abilities and long service deserved a better fate than he met with at last. A couple of years after I left the ship I met him in Old Gravel Lane, hopelessly crippled by a fall from aloft on his last passage home. He was hobbling off to the workhouse to try and get in, to be saved from starvation, for there is no redress for the sailor who is maimed in the execution of his duty.