amounting almost to tyranny. He would bully and brow-beat at the ship's-police when there were not enough defaulters to do the odd jobs requisitioned by the commander. When the childish punishment known as 10a (which consisted of compelling blacklist men to stand on the lee side of the quarter-deck from 8 to 10 p.m., to have their meals under the sentry's charge and to be deprived of grog and tobacco) was abolished, Garboard, then a junior lieutenant, asserted that the Service was going, to the dogs. He was never happier than when bully-ragging the men of his watch, under the plea of efficiency.  

Wishing to air his French the first lieutenant remarked: "Il fait très chaud, monsieur."  

The instructor whisked off his stove-pipe hat and bowed ceremoniously.  

"Show?" he repeated. "Oui, ver' fine show," and looked about him as if he expected to see a floating Agricultural Hall.  

"Blockhead!" muttered the discomfited Garboard as he beat a retreat, signing to a quarter-master to take the Frenchman below to the midshipmen's study.  

The dozen disconsolate youngsters were already mustered, and awaited with no great zest the arrival of their instructor; but their apathy changed when the Frenchman appeared. They seemed to scent a lark.  

But they were sadly mistaken if they hoped to rag that oddly-garbed individual.  

"Sit you down," he said sternly. "Sit you down. You tink I haf not imparted ze instruction to ze midsheepmens before, eh? You make great mistake. Ze first zat acts ze light-headed goat he go in ze capitan's report: zen, no leave for a whole veek."  

Taking up a piece of chalk the instructor wrote in a firm hand:—  

"Mon frère a raison, mais ma soeur a tort."  

"Now, zen," he continued, "zat young zhentleman with ze red hair. How you translate zat, eh?"  

Mr. Midshipman Moxitter's particular weakness was French translation. It had caused him hours of uneasiness at Osborne and Dartmouth. By a succession of lucky shots he had foiled the examiners and had managed to scrape through in that particular subject.  

Upon being asked to translate the sentence, Moxitter stood up, squared his shoulders, and said solemnly:—  

"'My brother 

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