White-Jacket," said he, "ye can't have any paint."

Such, then, was my jacket: a well-patched, padded, and porous
one; and in a dark night, gleaming white as the White Lady of
Avenel!



CHAPTER II.

HOMEWARD BOUND.


"All hands up anchor! Man the capstan!"

"High die! my lads, we're homeward bound!"

Homeward bound!--harmonious sound! Were you _ever_ homeward
bound?--No?--Quick! take the wings of the morning, or the sails
of a ship, and fly to the uttermost parts of the earth. There,
tarry a year or two; and then let the gruffest of boatswains, his
lungs all goose-skin, shout forth those magical words, and you'll
swear "the harp of Orpheus were not more enchanting."

All was ready; boats hoisted in, stun' sail gear rove, messenger
passed, capstan-bars in their places, accommodation-ladder below;
and in glorious spirits, we sat down to dinner. In the ward-room,
the lieutenants were passing round their oldest port, and
pledging their friends; in the steerage, the _middies_ were busy
raising loans to liquidate the demands of their laundress, or