Well, there you are! How would _you_ like to go out to an amateur theatrical performance in an open picket-boat in wind and rain, and return in a drifter through raging seas in a full gale? What a life! Never mind! There's a good time coming, and as A. M. M. says in _Punch_:
When the war is over and the Kaiser's out of print, I'm going to buy some tortoises and watch the beggars sprint; When the war is over and the sword at last we sheathe, I'm going to keep a jelly-fish and listen to it breathe.
When the war is over and the battle has been won, I'm going to buy a barnacle and take it for a run; When the war is over and the German fleet we sink, I'm going to keep a silkworm's egg and listen to it think.
When the war is over and we've done the Belgians proud, I'm going to keep a chrysalis and read to it aloud; When the war is over and we've finished up the show, I'm going to plant a lemon-pip and listen to it grow.
Youth's passion, manhood's fierce intent, With age's judgment wise, They spent, and counted not they spent, At daily sacrifice.
Refraining e'en from lawful things, They bowed the neck to bear The unadornèd yoke that brings Stark toil and sternest care. Wherefore through them is Freedom sure; Wherefore through them we stand From all but sloth and pride secure, In a delightsome land.
On Tuesday, May 30, 1916, we were at our northern base lying quietly at anchor, when in the course of the afternoon a signal was received from the Flagship ordering steam. From this we presumed that we should shortly depart for one of our periodical trips to sea for the purpose of executing manœuvres.
An hour or so later some of the light cruisers got under way, and on our ship the bugle-call "Special Duty Men" was sounded off. The first part of the watch on deck went on to the fo'c'sle to shorten in to three shackles: that means to heave in the port or starboard cable, as the case may be, to three shackles, preparatory to weighing anchor.
The Second Battle Squadron having got under way, we weighed and proceeded to sea in their wake. It was a calm evening: my first watch (8 to 12 P.M.) was uneventful, and when it was over I turned in. Next morning I had my bath at 6.45, and when dressed repaired to the gunroom in the hope that my seven-bell (naval phraseology for 7.30) breakfast, which I had ordered overnight, would be ready for me.... Vain hope triumphing over experience, and doomed to disappointment. As usual the said breakfast did not materialize until five minutes to eight, which left me exactly two minutes in which to consume it ... very bad for digestion and temper!