shall some day or another."

"Well, I hope you will," replied my father; "but your fishing story has
put me in mind of rather a curious fish, caught by a lad on board of a
man-of-war; and suppose I finish what's at the bottom of this here pot;
send Jack for another, and when he comes back, I'll tell you all about
it."

"There's nothing gives me more satisfaction," replied Ben, "than to pass
away the evening in a sober, quiet way, as we are doing now, telling and
listening to long yarns. Ain't you sleepy, Jack?"

"Oh! no," replied I, "not a bit. I'll run for the porter; and don't let
father begin till I come back, Ben. The house will be shut up soon:
shall I get more than a pot?"

"Yes, Jack; but not more beer," replied my father, putting some silver
into my hand; "get one pot of beer and a bottle of rum. We'll have that
by way of a nightcap, old boy."

I ran for the beer and liquor, and was soon back. My father and Ben
refilled their pipes, and the former commenced as follows:

"When I was quartermaster on board of the 'Melpomene,' we had an old
chap for first lieutenant whose name was Fletcher. He was a kind-hearted
man enough, as he never worried the ship's company when there was no
occasion; but, at the same time, he was what you call a great stickler
for duty--made no allowances for neglect or disobedience of orders,
although he would wink at any little skylarking, walking aft, shutting
his eyes, and pretending not to see or hear it. His usual phrase was,