Jack had not seen Mr. Bankhead since they had parted on the deck of the Ohio; for the latter had gone to Philadelphia, where his ship was fitting out: but our sailor-boy had written to him in regard to his future prospects, and, in his letter, had taken occasion to mention his three friends who had desired him to intercede for them. He had received a favorable reply, and for several weeks had been impatiently waiting to be summoned to a more active field of labor. At the time of which we write, there was a deficiency of seamen at the navy-yards of Philadelphia and Washington, and drafts were occasionally made on those at Charlestown and Portsmouth. After Jack and his friends had waited till their patience was nearly exhausted, they were delighted to hear that Lieutenant Bankhead, first-lieutenant and executive officer of the United States steam sloop-of-war Harrisburg, was upon the spar-deck, and would immediately draft a number of seamen for his ship. “Now, my breezy little reefer, your time has come,” said Tom Longstone, as the word was passed along among the men: “Mr. Bankhead is on deck.” “I will run up and see him,” replied Jack hastily, as he started to execute his purpose. “Avast, there, avast! Belay everything!” exclaimed Tom, as he grasped his _protégé_ by the arm, and detained him. “What’s the matter, Tom!” demanded Jack, rather surprised at the conduct of his friend. “Don’t be in a hurry: just moor your hulk alongside of Old Tom on this mess-chest, my sentimental little skipper, and let us overhaul this matter a little.” “But Mr. Bankhead is on deck, Tom; and I want to see him.” “All right, Jack: so he is. If he wasn’t, I wouldn’t say a word. Mr. Bankhead is first-lieutenant and executive officer of the sloop-of-war Harrisburg. Now, my lively little pap-consumer, what are you?” “What am I? What am I? Why, I’m an ordinary seaman in the navy, and hope soon to be drafted into the Harrisburg.” “Precisely so; but you don’t know no more nor a marine. Are you goin’ for to go for to throw yourself into the arms of Mr. Bankhead, just as though he was your fust cousin, and you’d been off on a long v’y’ge?” “He will be very glad to take me by the hand,” said Jack, rather mystified at this representation of his own insignificance. “Jack, don’t you stick your flipper out to Mr. Bankhead any more’n you’d put your leg into the maw of a ground shark,” continued Tom earnestly. “Why not?” demanded Jack, who thought Tom’s suspicions were an insult to his friend, and a reflection upon his sincerity. “Why, you little monkey, you are as green as a horse-mackerel! You don’t know no more nor a land-lubber!” “Mr. Bankhead has seen the time when he was glad to obey my orders,” replied Jack smartly. “Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Tom, taking off his cap, and pitching it down upon the mess-table; while Blinks and Rushington roared till their sides ached at the self-sufficiency of the young sailor.