"He's just the regulation, sir," he said, after inspecting the measure. "Thirty-one inches, sir, exactly." The doctor looked at Reeks's papers again. "Ah, yes, all right, his age is under sixteen, I see," said he. "Just test his height, Trimmens." The sick-bay steward took Reeks to the bulkhead opposite, where was a standard for measurement, the same as they keep in barrack-rooms. "He's five feet two, sir," he called out--"to a h'inch, sir." "All right, that'll do," said the doctor. "I don't think Mr Reeks will grow much more, though; he's too thickset. Get me my stethoscope, Trimmens, and I'll sound his lungs and heart." The doctor's examination appeared satisfactory, for he made a note on `Ugly's' papers; and he was then made to hop across the cabin on each foot alternately and swing from a hook suspended to the deck above with either hand; after which his sight was tested, to see whether he could distinguish colours at a distance, besides being made pick out variously formed letters placed six feet or so away from him. The ordeal was completed with an inquiry as to the state of his bowels! "You'll do all right," said the doctor, signing his papers to show he had complied with the requirements of the service. "Next boy!" This, of course, was Mick Donovan, who gave out his name clearly enough; but, on the order being given him to strip, he seemed somewhat abashed, as if reluctant to comply with this request. The doctor, very kindly, I thought, seemed to anticipate the poor lad's reason for hesitating. "Never mind, my boy, if your shore toggery is a bit seedy," he said. "You'll soon be blooming out in a bran-new sailor's rig, and be as good as anybody!" At this, Mick slipped off his ragged jacket at once, dragging an even more tattered shirt over his head. But I noticed though, and so did the doctor too, who had pretty sharp eyes of his own in spite of his somewhat indolent demeanour, that, if poor Mick's garment was ragged, as indeed it was--aye, and `holy' enough to have served his patriot saint, Saint Patrick, for a vestment--the shirt, or rather the remnant of the article, was scrupulously clean. The Irish boy's skin also appeared much more accustomed to soap and water than that of the ugly Reeks, who, I saw, regarded my new friend with contempt, though he seemed to me a very dirty fellow, if outwardly better dressed. However, in spite of his dilapidated raiment, Mick passed all the medical tests; though he had a narrow squeak in regard to the dimensions of his chest, failing in the proper measurement for his age by just an eighth of an inch. "Faith, sor, I'll fill out soon enough whin I git outside ov a good male or two," pleaded the defaulter, on the sick-berth steward noting the deficiency. "An' sure, yer anner, if Oi arn't broad enough in the chist, I make up for it by being taller for me age--Bedad, Oi'm that, sor!" The doctor seemed tickled by this unanswerable piece of logic.