NIGHTS IN THE GALLEY. THIRD YARN. 



ON the morning after I had heard the commencement of Will 

 Gibbon's yarn, it was my fore-noon watch on deck. The sails were 

 loosed to dry, the boats lowered, and the hands had been turned up 

 from their breakfast, the half-hour that is allowed for this meal having 

 expired. We had been in the habit of daily sending to the dock- 

 yard a number of men to perform the numerous trifling duties that 

 are always necessary in harbour the rope-makers, swab-makers, 

 carpenters, sail-makers, and a number of other parties ; and, as it 

 was tedious to call them all by name, the first-lieutenant had that 

 morning ordered me to call them away in a body, under the title of 

 <e Away, there, artificers, away." I proceeded to the gangway to 

 execute my orders, summoned the boatswain's-mate, and directed 

 him to call the artificers away. Instead of his usual prompt answer 

 of " Aye, aye, Sir,'' he appeared to hesitate taking off his hat, 

 and squirting his quid of tobacco into it, he began to scratch his head 

 and look quite puzzled. I observed this, but not knowing the cause, 

 I called to him, to inquire if he had heard me. " Aye, aye, Sir," 

 but in such a slow, hesitating tone, that I was inclined to think him 

 drunk, and was about to call him on deck, to interrogate him ; but at 

 the moment he put his pipe to his mouth, gave a shrill note, and sung 

 out, " Away, there, artificialers, away." I smiled, but it was too late 

 to contradict, so I applied myself to the duty of preparing the boats 

 for these " artificialers." After waiting some time, I was somewhat 

 astonished that none of these gentry were forthcoming. Our ship was 

 in such good order, and the men did their duty so well, that it seldom 

 happened that they were behind hand. I turned by the gangway to 

 make inquiries why they did not appear, and overheard the following 

 conversation between our old friends, Will Gibbon and Jack Murray. 



(t I say, Jack, what the b y h 1 was that yarn the boatswain's 

 mate pitched us just now hartificialers ! I'll be d d if that arn't a 

 five-decker." 



" You may say that, when you write home," returned Jack Murray. 

 " Let's ask the bosen's (boatswain's) mate. I say, Bill, what the 

 h 1 was that ere five-decker as you launched just now." 



" I'll be d d if I know," replied the boatswain's-mate, " any more 

 nor one o' the reefers ordered me to pipe the artificialers away. I'm 

 sure that was the word he said, but I never ' heerd' of such a word 

 afore ; you'd better go and ask Mr. Martyr he was the midshipman 

 as give me the orders." 



During this conversation I was standing at the break of the hatch- 

 way ; when I heard the result of their conference, I walked aft 

 expecting them to follow, and aft they came. The boatswain's mate,' 

 Will Gibbon, and Jack Murray, having transferred their quids of 

 tobacco from the mouth to the hat, and stroked down their hair (a 



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M.M. No. 104. 



