'Od, sir, a muckle ship's a queer thing when ye come to think on't; it's just, for a' the warl, like a toun afloat. If ye gang to the ane end, ye hear the quacking o' ducks, and the cheep-cheeping o' turkeys, and the crawing o' cocks;--gang to the ither, and there's the baaing o' sheep, and the grumphing o' pigs, and the kye rowting as natural like as if they war in a farm-steading at hame. Then there's Jemmy Ducks, a kind o' henwife, only he's a man; and a butcher, and a baker, and cooks, and carpenters, and joiners, and sail-makers, and blacksmiths (armourers they ca' them), and a smiddy, and a' things like a place on shore. Then, if ye want yer shoon clouted, or yer jacket mendit, or yer hair clippit, ye're safe to fin' tailors, and cobblers, and shavers amang the crew. We had a vera crooded ship; there war near five hundred sodgers, wi' some o' their wives, on board; and an awfu time we had on't at first. We had just got fairly oot into the Channel, whan it beguid to blaw great guns, as they say, and the sail was a' taen in but the maintopsail, and the ship tossed and tumbled in the water like a strong man warstlin wi' his enemy. Whiles an awfu sea, as big's a hill-side, wad come rampaging and raining doun upon her, as if it was gaun to swallow her up a'thegither; and, wi' an awsome thud agen her bow, wad send a shower o' thick spray owre her hail length; then she tumbled owre, graining and maning like a leeving thing, till her side went deep into the water, as if she war never gaun to rise mair; then up she wad come again, whirring, and roll owre the tither way, dauring the sea, as 'twere, to anither tussle, while the lang masts were whisking aboot as if they wad sweep the heavens abune oor heads. The sodgers, puir bodies, were doun on the lowest deck--they ca't the hollup (orlop)--wi' nae licht nor air but what cam doun the hatchways, so that we were obliged to keep the hatch off, and every time a sea struck the ship, a great body o' water ran doun below, till the hollup was rinning maist foot deep; and there were the puir mithers sitting hauding on by the stanchions in the midst o' the deck, and trying to catch the helpless bit weans as they were carried frae side to side by the rolling o' the ship and the rushing o' the water. Eh, it was a sad sicht to see the bits o' things! Mony a puir wean died afterwards. I could tell ye a feck o' queer things about the voyage; but I hae nae time enow. But I'll just tell ye twa bit stories, ane about a sodger, and the ither about puir Geordie Gordon; they baith affected me much at the time. Amang the sodgers there was a serjeant--a colour-serjeant, they ca'd him--wha was weel likit by a' the crew. His name was George Hastie; he was a weel-faured, douce, canny body, wi' twa mitherless weans.