378 Old Neighbours — An Adniiial on Shore. [April, ' 



it caught sight of the carriage, and was in another instant hanging 

 round its mother's neck in the hall. I could not help observing to the 

 governess, who also met us there, that it was quite shocking to think 

 how often disobedience answers amongst these little people. If Miss 

 Emily had not been peeping out of the window when we drove up to the 

 door, she would have heex\ at least two minutes later in kissing her 

 dear mamma— a remark to which the little girl assented very heartily, 

 and at which her accomplished preceptress tried to look grave. 



Leaving Emily with her mother, I sallied forth on the lawn to 

 reconnoitre old scenes and recollect old times. My first visit especially 

 forced itself on my remembrance. It had been made, like this, under the 

 sultry August sun. We then lived within walking distance, and I had 

 been proceeding hither to call on our new neighbours, Admiral and Mrs. 

 Floyd, when a very unaccountable noise on the lawn induced me to 

 pause at the entrance ; a moment's observation explained the nature of 

 the sounds. The admiral was shooting wasps with a pocket pistol ; a 

 most villanous amusement, as it seemed to me, who am by nature and 

 habit a hater of such poppery, and indeed of all noises which are at 

 once sudden and expected. My first impulse was to run away, and I 

 had actually made some motions towards a retreat, when, struck with the 

 ludicrous nature of the sport, and the folly of being frightened at a sort 

 of squibbery, which even the unusual game (though the admiral was 

 a capital marksman, and seldom failed to knock down his insect) did not 

 seem to regard ; I faced about manfully, and contenting myself with 

 putting my hands to my ears to keep out the sound, remained at a very 

 safe distance to survey the scene. There, under the shade of the tall 

 elms, sate the veteran, a little old withered man, very like a pocket 

 pistol himself, brown, succinct, grave, and fiery. He wore an old- 

 fashioned naval uniform of blue faced with white, which set off his 

 mahogany countenance, drawn into a thousand deep wrinkles, so that 

 his face was as full of lines as if it had been tattooed, with the full force 

 of contrast. At his side stood a very tall, masculine, large-boned middle- 

 aged woman, something like a man in petticoats, whose face, in spite of 

 a quantity of rouge and a small portion of modest assurance, might 

 still be called handsome, and could never be mistaken for belonging to 

 other than an Irish woman. There was a touch of the brogue in her 

 very look. She, evidently his wife, stood by marking the covles, and 

 enjoying, as it seemed to me, the smell of gunpowder, to which she had 

 the air of being quite as well accustomed as the admiral. A younger 

 lady was watching them at a little distance, apparently as much amused 

 as myself, and far less frightened ; on her advancing to meet me the 

 pistol was put down, and the admiral joined us. 'fhis was my first 

 introduction : we were acquainted in a moment ; and before the end of 

 my visit he had shown me all over his house, and told me the whole his- 

 tory of his life and adventures. 



In these there was nothing remai'kable, excepting their being so 

 entirely of the sea. Some sixty-five years before he had come into the 

 world, in the middle of the British channel, while his mother was taking 

 a little trip from Portsmouth to Plymouth on board her husband's flag- 

 ship (for he, too, had been an admiral), when, rather before he was 

 expected, our admiral was born. This debid fixed his destin)^ At 

 twelve years old he went to sea, and had remained there ever since, till 

 now, when an unlucky promotion sent him ashore, and seemed likely to 



