“But I should have told you, sir, that just before going into action, the admiral walked round the quarters attended by the captain and, I thinks, Mr. Quillem, the first leftenant, but I won’t be sure. The gunner, Mr. Rivers, was along with ’em, I know, and a worthy old gemman he was; his son, a midshipman, was stationed on the same deck with us,--a fine spirited youth, with his light hair flowing about his ears and his little laughing eyes,--up to all manner of mischief. Well, round they came, and the hero seemed proud of his men; he stopped occasionally to speak to one and to another, and his keen eye saw in a moment if any thing wasn’t ship-shape. His countenance was rather stern, but there was a look of confidence that told us at once the day was our own;--nay, for the matter o’ that, Sam Windsail began to reckon what he should buy for Poll with his prize-money. “When they reached the quarters where young Rivers was stationed, Nelson looked at the son and then at the father, as much as to say, ‘he’s a fine youth, you ought to be proud of him,’ as no doubt the old gemman was, for he knew his gallant boy would do his duty. But still the tender solicitude of a parent’s heart is not to be repressed, however it may be concealed; and as he followed the admiral, his head was frequently turned back to take another look at his child, and perhaps he thought ‘mayhap it may be the last.’ Well, as I was saying before, the enemy’s balls began to rattle into us like hail-stones through a gooseberry bush, and many a poor fellow was laid low. ‘Arrah, bad manners to ’em, what do they mane by that?’ cried Tim Doyle, as a whole shoal of shot travelled in one another’s wake, and swept the entire range of the deck. ‘Come, don’t be skulking down there, Jack Noggin,’ continued Tim, ‘but lay hoult of the tackle-fall.’ Jack never moved. ‘Och bother, don’t you mane to get up?’ But poor Jack’s glass was run, his cable was parted; so we launched his hull out at the port, stock and fluke. “Mayhap you never saw a battle, sir. It is no child’s play, take my word for it. But the worst time is just before engaging, when silence reigns fore and aft, and a poor fellow douses his jacket without knowing whether he shall ever clap his rigging on agen. Then it is that home with all its sweet remembrances clings round the heart. Parents, or wife, or children, become doubly dear, and the fond ties of kindred are linked by stronger bonds. Howsomever, as soon as the first shot is fired, and we get within a sort of shake-hands distance of the enemy, every other thought gives way to a steady discharge of duty.