Under the Meteor Flag: Log of a Midshipman during the French Revolutionary War
of delight; and from that time he became a different man; in consequence, I presume, of his having stumbled upon an object which excited within him a genuine interest. During the week of my stay with him in town he went everywhere with me, though his normal condition was that of martyrdom to gout; and on my receiving my appointment to the “Juno” he insisted on presenting me with an entire new rig-out from stem to stern; including a very fine and powerful telescope, the best sextant that could be bought for money, and one or two other matters of use in my profession. It had been intimated to me that, in consideration of my scarcely-healed wound, I need not join my ship until the last moment; but Sir Peregrine insisted on my going down at once, in order that I might not lose the chance which the fitting-out of the ship presented for increasing my knowledge of practical seamanship. “It is not that I am tired of your company, Ralph: do not think that, my dear boy,” he earnestly said; “but you have now an opportunity which may perhaps never occur again for acquiring knowledge which is only to be gained in this way; and it is a species of knowledge which may at any moment be of the utmost service to you. You will have to endure a week or two of discomfort, but that is a trifling matter compared with the lasting advantage which you will thereby obtain, and you will live to bless the day when your old uncle hurried you away from the pleasures of town to the discomforts of a ship passing through the riggers’ hands. One word more, my boy. Your father cannot, I suppose, afford you a very liberal allowance of pocket-money; I shall therefore supplement what he gives you by an allowance of a hundred a year out of my own pocket for the present, that being in my opinion quite as much as a lad of your age ought to spend. At the same time, understand me, if you should by any chance be in difficulties and require a further sum, you may freely draw on me; provided of course that the difficulty is not of your own making, or of a dishonourable nature—but there, I do not think I need fear that of you, Ralph.”

This was on the day previous to my starting for Portsmouth. It was arranged that I should go down by the coach; Sir Peregrine at that time strongly disapproving of midshipmen driving down in private carriages, or even posting down to join their ships—“it would be quite time enough for that sort of thing when I had a ship of my own,” he considered. We were both accordingly on the move early next morning, the old gentleman insisting on going with me to the coach-office, and seeing me fairly under way. While sitting at breakfast he handed me a letter for Captain Hood, my new skipper, who it appeared was an intimate friend 
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