Idiots only will be cozened twice. 
  DRYDEN.

Seymour did not fail to profit by the invitation extended by Mrs Rainscourt, and soon became the inseparable companion of Emily.  His attentions to her were a source of amusement to the McElvinas and her mother, who thought little of a flirtation between a midshipman of sixteen and a girl that was two years his junior.  The two months’ leave of absence having expired, Seymour was obliged to return to the guard-ship, on the books of which his name had been enrolled.  It was with a heavy heart that he bade farewell to the McElvinas.  He had kissed away the tears of separation from the cheeks of Emily, and their young love, unalloyed as that between a brother and sister, created an uneasy sensation in either heart which absence could not remove.

When our hero reported himself to the commanding officer of the guard-ship, he was astonished at his expressing a total ignorance of his belonging to her, and sent down for the clerk, to know if his name was on the books.

The clerk, a spare, middle-sized personage, remarkably spruce and neat in his attire, and apparently about forty years of age, made his appearance, with the open list under his arm, and, with a humble bow to the first-lieutenant, laid it upon the cap-stern-head, and running over several pages, from the top to the bottom, with his finger, at last discovered our hero’s name.

“It’s all right, young gentleman,” said the first-lieutenant.  “Take him down to the berth, Mr Skrimmage, and introduce him.  You’ve brought your hammock, of course, and it is to be hoped that your chest has a good lock upon it; if not, I can tell you you’ll not find all your clothes tally with your division list by to-morrow morning.  But we cannot help these things here.  We are but a sort of a `thoroughfare,’ and every man must take care of himself.”

Seymour thanked the first-lieutenant for his caution, and descended with the clerk, who requested him to step into his private cabin, previous to being ushered into the gun-room, where the midshipmen’s mess was held ­ and of which Mr Skrimmage filled the important post of caterer.  “Mrs Skrimmage, my dear,” said Seymour’s conductor, “allow me to introduce to you Mr Seymour.”  The lady courtesied with great affectation, and an air of condescension, and requested our hero to take a chair ­soon after which Mr Skrimmage commenced ­“It is the custom, my dear sir, in this ship, for every gentleman who joins the midshipmen’s berth to put down one guinea as entrance money, after which the subscription is restricted to the sum of five shillings per week, which is always paid in advance.  You will therefore oblige me by the trifling sum of six-and-twenty shillings, previous to my introducing you to your new messmates.  You will excuse my requesting the money to be paid now, which, I assure you, does not arise from any doubt of your honour; but the fact is, being the only member of the mess who can be considered as stationary, the unpleasant duty of caterer has devolved upon me, and I have lost so much money by young gentlemen leaving the ship in a hurry, and forgetting to settle their accounts, that it has now become a rule, which is never broken through.”

As soon as Mr Skrimmage had finished his oration, which he delivered in the softest and most persuasive manner, Seymour laid down the sum required, and having waited, at the clerk’s request, to see his name, and sum paid, entered in the mess-book by Mrs Skrimmage, he was shown into the gun-room, which he found crowded with between thirty and forty midshipmen, whose vociférations and laughter created such a din as to drown the voice of his conductor, who cried out, “Mr Seymour, gentlemen, to join the mess,” and then quitted the noisy abode, which gave our hero the idea of bedlam broke loose.

On one side of the gun-room a party of fifteen or twenty were seated cross-legged on the deck in a circle, stripped to their shirts, with their handkerchiefs laid up like ropes in their hands.  A great coat and a sleeve-board, which they had borrowed from the marine tailor, who was working on the main-deck, lay in the centre, and they pretended to be at work with their needles on the coat.  It was the game of goose, the whole amusement of which consisted in giving and receiving blows.  Every person in the circle had a name to which he was obliged to answer immediately when it was called, in default of which he was severely punished by all the rest.  The names were distinguished by colours, as Black Cap, Red Cap; and the elegant conversation, commenced by the master tailor, ran as follows; observing that it was carried on with the greatest rapidity of utterance.

“That’s a false stitch ­whose was it?”

“Black Cap.”

“No, sir, not mine, sir.”

“Who then, sir?”

“Red Cap.”

“You lie, sir.”

“Who, then, sir?”

“Blue Cap, Blue Cap.”

“You lie, sir.”

“Who, then, sir?”

“Yellow Cap, Yellow Cap.”

Yellow Cap unfortunately did not give the lie in time, for which he was severely punished, and the game then continued.

But the part of the game which created the most mirth was providing a goose for the tailors, which was accomplished by some of their confederates throwing into the circle any bystander who was not on his guard, and who, immediately that he was thrown in, was thrashed and kicked by the whole circle until he could make his escape.  An attempt of this kind was soon made upon Seymour, who, being well acquainted with the game, and perceiving the party rushing on him to push him in, dropped on his hands and knees, so that the other was caught in his own trap, by tumbling over Seymour into the circle himself; from which he at last escaped, as much mortified by the laugh raised against him as with the blows which he had received.

Seymour, who was ready to join in any fun, applied for work, and was admitted among the journeymen.

“What’s your name?”

“Dandy Grey Russet Cap,” replied Seymour, selecting a colour which would give him ample time for answering to his call.

“Oh, I’ll be damned but you’re an old hand,” observed one of the party, and the game continued with as much noise as ever.

But we must leave it, and return to Mr Skrimmage, who was a singular, if not solitary instance of a person in one of the lowest grades of the service having amassed a large fortune.  He had served his time under an attorney, and from that situation, why or wherefore the deponent sayeth not, shipped on board a man-of-war in the capacity of a ship’s clerk.  The vessel which first received him on board was an old fifty-gun ship of two decks, a few of which remained in the service at that time, although they have long been dismissed and broken up.  Being a dull sailer, and fit for nothing else, she was constantly employed in protecting large convoys of merchant vessels to America and the West Indies.  Although other men-of-war occasionally assisted her in her employ, the captain of the fifty-gun ship, from long standing, was invariably the senior officer, and the masters of the merchant vessels were obliged to go on board his ship to receive their convoy instructions, and a distinguishing pennant, which is always given without any fee.

But Skrimmage, who had never been accustomed to deliver up any paper without a fee when he was in his former profession, did not feel inclined to do so in his present.  Make a direct charge he dare not ­he, therefore, hit upon a ruse de guerre which effected his purpose.  He borrowed from different parties seven or eight guineas, and when the masters of merchant vessels came on board for their instructions, he desired them to be shown down into his cabin, where he received them with great formality and very nicely dressed.  The guineas were spread upon the desk, so that they might be easily reckoned.

“Sit down, captain; if you please, favour me with your name, and that of your ship.”  As he took these down, he carelessly observed, “I have delivered but seven copies of the instructions to-day as yet.”

The captain, having nothing to do in the meantime, naturally cast his eyes round the cabin and was attracted by the guineas, the number of which exactly tallied with the number of instructions delivered.  It naturally occurred to him that they were the clerk’s perquisites of office.

“What is the fee, sir?”

“Whatever you please ­some give a guinea, some two.”

A guinea was deposited; and thus with his nest-eggs, Mr Skrimmage, without making a direct charge, contrived to pocket a hundred guineas, or more, for every convoy that was put under his captain’s charge.  After four years, during which he had saved a considerable sum, the ship was declared unserviceable, and broken up, and Mr Skrimmage was sent on board of the guard-ship, where his ready wit immediately pointed out to him the advantages which might be reaped by permanently belonging to her, as clerk of the ship, and caterer of the midshipmen’s berth.  After serving in her for eight years, he was offered his rank as purser, which he refused, upon the plea of being a married man, and preferring poverty with Mrs S –­ to rank and money without her.  At this the reader will not be astonished when he is acquainted, that the situation which he held was, by his dexterous plans, rendered so lucrative, that in the course of twelve years, with principal and accumulating interest, he had amassed the sum of 15,000 pounds.

A guard-ship is a receiving-ship for officers and men, until they are enabled to join, or are drafted to their respective ships.  The consequence is, that an incessant change is taking place, ­a midshipman sometimes not remaining on board of her for more than three days before an opportunity offers of joining his ship.  In fact, when we state that, during the war, upwards of one thousand midshipmen were received and sent away from a guard-ship, in the course of twelve months, we are considerably within the mark.  Now, as Mr Skrimmage always received one guinea as entrance to the mess, and a week’s subscription in advance, and, moreover, never spent even the latter, or had his accounts examined, it is easy to conceive what a profitable situation he had created for himself.  Mrs Skrimmage, also, was a useful helpmate:  she lived on board, at little expense, and, by her attention to the dear little middies and their wearing apparel, who were sent on board to join some ship for the first time, added very considerably to his profits.

Her history was as follows.  It had three eras: ­she had been a lady’s-maid, in town; and, in this situation, acquiring a few of the practices of “high life,” she had become something else on the town; and, finally, Mrs Skrimmage.  With a view of awing his unruly associates into respect, Mr Skrimmage (as well as his wife) was particularly nice in his dress and his conversation, and affected the gentleman, as she did the lady ­this generally answered pretty well; but sometimes unpleasant circumstances would occur, to which his interest compelled Mr Skrimmage to submit.  It may be as well here to add, that, at the end of the war, Mr Skrimmage applied for his promotion for long service, and, obtaining it, added his purser’s half-pay to the interest of his accumulated capital, and retired from active service.

The steward and his boy entering the gun-room with two enormous black tea-kettles, put an end to the boisterous amusement.  It was the signal for tea.

“Hurrah for Scaldchops!” cried the master tailor, rising from the game, which was now abandoned.  A regiment of cups and saucers lined the two sides of the long table, and a general scramble ensued for seats.

“I say, Mr Cribbage,” cried an old master’s-mate, to the caterer, who had entered shortly after the tea-kettles, and assumed his place at the end of the table, “what sort of stuff do you call this?”

“What do you mean to imply, sir?” replied Mr Skrimmage, with a pompous air.

“Mean to ply? ­why, I mean to ply, that there’s damned little tea in this here water; why, I’ve seen gin as dark a colour as this.”

“Steward,” said Mr Skrimmage, turning his head over his shoulder towards him, “have you not put the established allowance into the tea-pot?”

“Yes, sir,” replied the steward; “a tea-spoonful for every gentleman, and one for coming up.”

“You hear, gentlemen,” said Mr Skrimmage.

“Hear! ­yes, but we don’t taste.  I should like to see it sarved out,” continued the master’s-mate.

“Sir,” replied Mr Skrimmage, “I must take the liberty to observe to you, that that is a responsibility never intrusted to the steward.  The established allowance is always portioned out by Mrs Skrimmage herself.”

“Damn Mrs Skrimmage,” said a voice from the other end of the table.

“What!” cried the indignant husband; “what did I hear?  Who was that?”

“’Twas this young gentleman, Mr Caterer,” said a malicious lad, pointing to one opposite.

“Me, sir!” replied the youngster, recollecting the game they had just been playing; “you lie, sir.”

“Who then, sir?”

“Black Cap ­Black Cap,” pointing to another.

“I damn Mrs Skrimmage!  You lie, sir.”

“Who then, sir?”

“Red Cap ­Red Cap.”

“I damn Mrs Skrimmage?  You lie, sir.”

And thus was the accusation bandied about the table, to the great amusement of the whole party, except the caterer, who regretted having taken any notice of what had been said.

“Really, gentlemen, this behaviour is such as cannot be tolerated,” observed Mr Skrimmage, who invariably preferred the suaviter in modo.  “As caterer of this berth ­”

“It is your duty to give us something to eat,” added one of the midshipmen.

“Gentlemen, you see what there is on the table; there are rules and regulations laid down, which cannot be deviated from, and ­”

“And those are, to starve us.  I’ve paid six-and-twenty shillings, and have not had six-and-twenty mouthfuls in the three days that I have been here.  I should like to see your accounts, Mr Caterer.”

“Bravo! let’s have his accounts,” roared out several of the party.

“Gentlemen, my accounts are ready for inspection, and will bear, I will venture to assert, the most minute investigation; but it must be from those who have a right to demand it, and I cannot consider that a person who has only been in the ship for three days has any pretence to examine them.”

“But I have been in the ship three weeks,” said another, “and have paid you one pound sixteen shillings.  I have a right, and now I demand them ­so let us have the accounts on the table, since we can get nothing else.”

“The accounts ­the accounts!” were now vociferated for by such a threatening multitude of angry voices, that Mr Skrimmage turned pale with alarm, and thought it advisable to bend to the threatening storm.

“Steward, present the gentlemen’s respects to Mrs Skrimmage, and request that she will oblige them by sending in the mess account-book.  You understand ­the gentlemen’s respects to Mrs Skrimmage.”

“Damn Mrs Skrimmage,” again cried out one of the midshipmen, and the game of goose was renewed with the phrase, until the steward returned with the book.

“Mrs Skrimmage’s compliments to the gentlemen of the gun-room mess, and she has great pleasure in complying with their request:  but, in consequence of her late indisposition, the accounts are not made up further than to the end of last month.”

This was the plan upon which the wily clerk invariably acted, as it put an end to all inquiry; but the indignation of the midshipmen was not to be controlled, and as they could not give it vent in one way, they did in another.

“Gentlemen,” said one of the oldest of the fraternity, imitating Mr Skrimmage’s style, “I must request that you will be pleased not to kick up such a damned row, because I wish to make a speech:  and I request that two of you will be pleased to stand sentries at the door, permitting neither ingress nor egress, that I may `spin my yarn’ without interruption.

“Gentlemen, we have paid our mess-money, and we have nothing to eat.  We have asked for the accounts, and we are put off with `indisposition.’  Now, gentlemen, as there can be no doubt of the caterer’s honour, I propose that we give him a receipt in full.”

“And here’s a pen to write it with,” cried out another, holding up the sleeve-board, with which they had been playing the game.

“Then, gentlemen, are you all agreed ­to cobb the caterer?”

The shouts of assent frightened Mr Skrimmage, who attempted to make his escape by the gun-room door, but was prevented by the two sentries, who had been placed there on purpose.  He then requested to be heard ­to be allowed to explain; but it was useless.  He was dragged to the table, amidst an uproar of laughter and shouting.  “Extreme bad headaches” ­“Mrs Skrimmage” ­“nervous” ­“ample satisfaction” ­“conduct like gentlemen” ­“complain to first-lieutenant” ­were the unconnected parts of his expostulation, which could be distinguished.  He was extended across the table, face downwards; the lapels of his coat thrown up, and two dozen blows, with the sleeve-board, were administered with such force, that his shrieks were even louder than the laughter and vociferation of his assailants.

During the infliction, the noise within was so great that they did not pay attention to that which was outside, but as soon as Mr Skrimmage had been put on his legs again, and the tumult had partially subsided, the voice of the master-at-arms requesting admittance, and the screaming of Mrs Skrimmage, were heard at the door, which continued locked and guarded.  The door was opened, and in flew the lady.

“My Skrimmage! my Skrimmage! ­what have the brutes been doing to you?  Oh, the wretches!” continued the lady, panting for breath, and turning to the midshipmen, who had retreated from her; ­“you shall all be turned out of the service ­you shall ­that you shall.  We’ll see ­we’ll write for a court-martial ­ay, you may laugh, but we will.  Contempt to a superior officer ­clerk and caterer, indeed!  The service has come to a pretty pass ­you villains!  You may grin ­I’ll tear the eyes out of some of you, that I will.  Come, Mr Skrimmage, let us go on the quarter-deck, and see if the service is to be trifled with.  Dirty scum, indeed ­” and the lady stopped for want of breath occasioned by the rapidity of her utterance.

“Gentlemen,” said the master-at-arms, as soon as he could obtain hearing, ­“the first-lieutenant wishes to know the reason why you are making such a noise?”

“Our compliments to Mr Phillips, and we have been settling the mess-account, and taking the change out of the caterer.”

“Yes,” continued Mrs Skrimmage, “you villains, you have, you paltry cheats ­you blackguards ­you warmin ­you scum of the earth ­you grinning monkeys ­you! ­don’t put your tongue into your cheek at me, you ­you beast ­you ill-looking imp, or I’ll write the ten commandments on your face ­I will ­ay, that I will ­cowardly set of beggars ­” (No more breath.)

“I’ll tell you what, marm,” rejoined the old master’s-mate, “if you don’t clap a stopper on that jaw of yours, by George, we’ll cobb you.”

“Cobb me! ­you will, will you?  I should like to see you.  I dare you to cobb me, you wretches!”

“Cobb her, cobb her!” roared out all the midshipmen, who were irritated at her language; and in a moment she was seized by a dozen of them, who dragged her to the table.  Mrs Skrimmage struggled in vain, and there appeared every chance of the threat being put in force.

“Oh, ­is this the way to treat a lady? ­Skrimmage! help, help!”

Skrimmage who had been battered almost to stupefaction, roused by the call of his frightened wife, darted to her, and throwing his arm round her waist, ­“Spare her, gentlemen, spare her for mercy’s sake, spare her, ­or,” continued he, in a faltering voice, “if you will cobb her, let it be over all.”

The appeal in favour of modesty and humanity had its due weight; and Mr and Mrs Skrimmage were permitted to leave the gun-room without further molestation.  The lady, however, as soon as she had obtained the outside of the gun-room door, forgetting her assumed gentility, turned back, and shaking her fist at her persecutors, made use of language, with a repetition of which we will not offend our readers, ­and then, arm-in-arm with her husband quitted the gun-room.

“`Mrs Skrimmage’s compliments to the gentlemen of the gun-room mess,’” cried one of the midshipmen, mimicking, which was followed by a roar of laughter, when the quarter-master again made his appearance.

“Gentlemen, the first-lieutenant says, that all those who are waiting for a passage round to Plymouth, are to be on deck with their traps immediately.  There’s a frigate ordered round ­she has the blue-peter up, and her top-sails are sheeted home.”

This put an end to further mischief, as there were at least twenty of them whose respective ships were on that station.  In the meantime, while they were getting ready, Mr Skrimmage having restored the precision of his apparel, proceeded to the quarter-deck and made his complaint to the first-lieutenant; but these complaints had been repeatedly made before, and Mr Phillips was tired of hearing them, and was aware that he deserved his fate.  Mr Skrimmage was therefore silenced with the usual remark ­“How can I punish these young men, if they are in the wrong, who slip through my fingers immediately? ­the parties you complain of are now going down the side. Why don’t you give up the caterership?”

But this, for the reasons before stated, did not suit Mr Skrimmage, who returned below.  For a day or two, the mess was better supplied, from fear of a repetition of the dose; after that, it went on again as before.