deal about the plan of attack; and the Neapolitan observed, that if the captain would let 'em have a frigate instead of the brig, it would be much better and must ensure success. So the captain, very good-humoredly, countermands the order for the brig, and makes the signal for the captain of one of the frigates; and then they conversed together again, and the Count-they called him a Count, but Lord love you! he wouldn't count for nothing among British sodgers:-I say, the Count danced about the cabin as if he was charging the French garrison, and cutting 'em up into four-pound pieces. Well, ashore he goes, and the frigate's signal was made to unmoor and prepare for sea; when aboard comes the Count again to say the commander-inchief requested a line-of-battle ship might be sent instead of the frigate, as it would place the victory beyond a doubt; and after some backing and filling about the matter, Troubridge consented, and the brig was ordered to get under way and direct one of the seventy-fours outside to proceed to the place appointed. So away goes the Count, though it was plain to see the skipper warn't over and above pleased with the shuffling; but still he hoped the French would be beat, and ill as he could spare the seventy-four, the sloop was soon walking away under her canvas and had got to some distance; when along-side comes the Count again and goes into the cabin; but he hadn't been long there before out he comes again holus-bolus through the door-way, and the skipper in his wake with a face like scarlet, kicking the Count under his counter and starting him endways like seven bells halfstruck. The Count scratched his indecencies and run along the quarter-deck, with ould Troubridge belaboring him, and hollaing out, D- his eyes, first a brig, then a frigate, and next a line-of-battle ship; and now he won't fight arter all!' So the Count jumped into his boat, the brig was recalled, and the French kept possession till the army retreated, and then they capitulated." 66 "Ay, that was a sweet ship," said an aged pensioner, "that ould Culloden. Did you know Bill Buntline, as was captain of her fore-top?" "Why, to be sure I do," replied the other; “we were messmates for three years, and a worthy soul Bill was, too. He could spin a yarn that would last the whole look-out; and then, like some of your magazines, he continued it in the next. He was brave, too; but I fear we shall never muster many such as he again." "Cause why?" said my old chaperon, "they don't steer the right course to gain the point: who'd live burning under the line with only half allowance of grog? or in the regard of the matter o'that, what heart could go boldly into action that was swamped in tea-water? The parsons may say what they please, but they ar'nt more fond of the kettle ncr other folks, unless they takes it warm with a couple o' lumps o'sugar, But most of our tars are now in foreign sarvices, and teaching their art to our enemies." "Ah, it is so, ould shipmate," rejoined the pensioner; "I reads of 'em sometimes when they used to be with Cochrane in South America, and I glories in the whacking the Portuguese fleet have just napped from Napier. It makes my ould heart bound with joy when I thinks of it." "But, mayhap," said the boatswain's mate, "there'll be some whistling to get 'em back again, in case of another war; but I hardly think a British tar would battle the watch against his country." "Tell that to the marines!" exclaimed the old man. "Why! warn't the Yankee frigates principally manned with British tars, many of 'em who had fought under Nelson, and hailed with three |