"I presume, sir, you were not so sorry to have a fire to cook your provisions when you came to an anchor?" said O'Brien.
"I beg your pardon," replied Captain Kearney; "we had become so accustomed to raw provisions and wet feet, that we could not eat our meals cooked, or help dipping our legs over the side, for a long while afterwards. I saw one of the boat-keepers astern catch a large barracouta and eat it alive--indeed, if I had not given the strictest orders, and flogged half-a-dozen of them, I doubt whether they would not have eaten their victuals raw to this day. The force of habit is tremendous."
"It is, indeed," observed Mr Phillott, drily, and winking to us, referring to the captain's incredible stories.
"It is, indeed," repeated O'Brien; "we see the ditch in our neighbour's eye, and cannot observe the log of wood in our own;" and O'Brien winked at me, referring to Phillott's habit of bad language.
"I once knew a married man," observed the captain, "who had been always accustomed to go to sleep with his hand upon his wife's head, and would not allow her to wear a nightcap in consequence. Well, she caught cold and died, and he never could sleep at night until he took a clothes-brush to bed with him, and laid his hand upon that, which answered the purpose--such was the force of habit."
"I once saw a dead body galvanized," observed Mr Phillott: "it was the body of a man who had taken a great deal of snuff during his lifetime, and as soon as the battery was applied to his spine, the body very gently raised its arm, and put its fingers to its nose, as if it was taking a pinch."
"You saw that yourself, Mr Phillott?" observed the captain, looking at the first lieutenant earnestly in the face.
"Because I know that some people, by constantly telling a story, at last believe it to be true; not that I refer to you, Mr Phillott; but still, I should recommend you not to tell that story where you are not well known, or people may doubt your credibility."
"I make it a rule to believe everything myself," observed Mr Phillott, "out of politeness, and I expect the same courtesy from others."
"Then, upon my soul! when you tell that story, you trespass very much upon our good manners. Talking of courtesy, you must meet a friend of mine, who has been a courtier all his life; he cannot help bowing, I have seen him bow to his horse and thank him after he had dismounted-- beg pardon of a puppy for treading on his tail; and one day, when he fell over a scraper, he took his hat off, and made it a thousand apologies for his inattention."