that officer's wrathful face and the curt tone in which he invited
his visitor to luncheon.

The mild-looking gentleman--who gave his name as Harris--declined
courteously, averring that he had brought a sandwich with him.
The Commander thereupon turned him over to the Second Officer under
whose somewhat impatient escort Mr. Harris made a thorough tour of
the ship, peering into everything and asking a number of questions.
The boys--whom he amused by opening a large white umbrella,
green-lined, to shield him from the noonday sun on the upper deck--
promptly christened him "Moonface."

This Mr. Harris, still in charge of the Second Officer, happened
along the gun-deck as they finished singing "_Be present at our
table, Lord_," and were sitting down to dinner. From their places
they marched up one by one, each with his dinner-basin, to have it
filled at the head of the table.

"Hallo, you, Andrew!" called out the Second Officer. "Fetch that
basin along here. I want the gentleman to have a look at the ship's
food."

Link came forward, stretched out a long arm, and thrust the basin
under the visitor's nose.

"Perhaps," said he, "the toff would like a sniff at the same time?
There's Sweet Williams for a summer's day!"

"There, that'll do, Link! Go to your place, my lad, and don't be
insolent," said the Second Officer hastily, with a nervous glance at