Sailing from Madeira, we next made St. Michael’s. At this pace we had an increase to our crew, in the person of a fine, plump boy--born to the wife of one of our men. The captain christened the new comer, Michael, naming him after the island. This birth was followed by another. Whether the captain did not like the idea of such interesting episodes in sea life, or whether any other motive inspired him, I cannot tell; but when, shortly after, we returned to Lisbon, he ordered all the women home to England, by a ship just returning thither. Before this, however, one of our little Tritons had died, and found a grave under the billows, leaving its disconsolate mother in a state little short of distraction. A man of war is no place for a woman. Short cruises are very popular with man-of-war’s men. On many accounts they love being in harbor; on others they prefer being at sea. In harbor they have to work all day, but in return for this they have the whole night for sleep. At sea, the whole time is divided into five watches of four hours each, and two shorter ones, called dog watches, of two hours each, or from four to six and from six to eight, P. M. The design of these dog watches is to alternate the time, so that each watch may have a fair proportion of every night below. While at our station this time, our old friend, Bob Hammond, met with some little difficulty, which we will here make matter of record. He was below, and one of his messmates did something that vexed him exceedingly. Now Bob was not a man to bear vexations tamely, where he had the power to resist them; so, lifting his huge fist, he struck at the offender; missing his real opponent, the blow fell upon another who stood near him. Bob was too much of a bully to offer any apology; he merely laughed, and remarked that he had “killed two birds with one stone.” Whether the bird, who, in Bob’s figurative language, was killed, did not like being called a bird, or whether he conceived a strong dislike to being a mark for Bob to shoot at, is not for me to say; but he certainly disliked the one or the other, for the next morning he reported the matter to the officers, which complaint was considered a most unsailor-like act by the whole crew. Fighting was a punishable offence, so Bob was called up the next morning. The captain mentioned what was reported concerning him. He acknowledged it was all true, and without any signs of contrition said, “I only killed two birds with one stone.” The angry captain ordered two dozen lashes to be laid on; it was done without extorting a sigh or a groan. He was then loosed from the grating, and questioned; but he merely replied, in a gruff tone, that “the man who reported him was a blackguard!” For this, he was seized up again and another dozen lashes inflicted; he bore them with the same dogged and imperturbable air. Finding it impossible to extort any acknowledgment from the stubborn tar, the captain ordered him below.