[?]nstabulary Called

[?] hen The Fiji [?]nstabulary Called [?] The Admiral

A Memory, by C. WAGER

he Pacific Fleet had arrived in a harbour. The flagship, I think, HMS “Powerful”. Our Con mlary mess was rather shocked m Governor im Thurn’s ADC 7 up and said that the Old i’s instructions were that one of nust make a formal call on the ural.

DNE of us wanted the job, so we decided to draw for it.

During all the time I was in I never won even a fiver in a ;p; but, of course, it had to ne who drew the fatal slip for little lot. le others had fun in dressing for the event. Everything had o on—jingling spurs, cross-belt sword and, for the helmet, a n to replace the strap; and, on top, the button unscrewed to e room for a lovely, shining 3, about five inches long. 7 boat’s crew, with the Sergt.- Dr in charge, were also all ;hed up; and oif I went to the rf, to the point where they were ick me up. lere were two sailors standing s and, as X approached, an er from one of the ships came re from a small rowing-boat, irelled in riding gear, baggy ig breeches, gaiters, crop and s. id one Jack Tar to the other: ere’s ’e goin’, Bill?”

Drse ridin’,” said Bill. :’m”. said the first, “ ’Ope ’e ks ’is Weedin’ neck, don’t you?” that, my boat arrived and we off, sparkling in the sun like 30 engagement ring.

As we approached the ship I knew well that there were more than one telescope trained on us, and I could picture the look-out saying, “Gawd!

Wot’s this?”

There is, of course, a right and a wrong way to approach the gangway of a warship at anchor; but that delicate matter was quite safe in the hands of our Sergt.-Major.

With my four oars keeping perfeet time, and with a well-judged swoop, I was at the bottom of the gangway; while on the ship I have no doubt the Officer of the Watch, the Bo’sun and the Little Midshipmite were all at their proper positions for what was quite clearly a formal occasion.

I jingle-jingle-jingled up the steps, stepped over a scupper business, and came to attention in the approved manner to salute the Quarter-deck.

I must point out that all this happened over fifty years ago. In spite of an incurable attack of old age, a bit of a coronary spree and a mild stroke thrown in for luck, I am still a six-footer. The helmet and the spike I was wearing must have put another ten inches on to this, a u nrr ;ui p frach M nomme When I came to attention there was a horrible crash, when I rammed that confounded spike into the

odwork —an awning sort of busi is—overhead. What the Navy led it I don’t know, and what I led it you wouldn’t print, had my helmet under my arm, I my sword probably between my 5, when a smiling officer stepped to me.

What the hell does a man do :t. after a blasted thing like t?” said I. [ suppose you are calling on the nirai”, he said. “No need to ite any time seeing him. Just at your cards into that tray over :e, and come with me”, went with him to the ward-room, remember tossing my helmet, rd and belt on to a settee; and e, good as my memory is, at that it it lets me down—for I re tiber nothing more of that par lar afternoon, or how or when ft that hospitable ship, can only hope they didn’t put into a cargo sling, hoist me up swing me out, and lower me n to the loving arms of our ;t.-Major.