coffee, and sugar instead. I took very good care, however, not to
indulge myself in these things. I handed them over to men on the night
watches. This did not save me from the penalty for such an offence. It
brought down on my head the curses of a good many men in the mess, but
especially of one man who was a sort of a ship's bruiser. It came his
turn to be cook about once in ten days. The cook of the mess had as
his perquisite a little of each man's ration of rum. With the others,
the abuse was mixed with good-humour, for on the whole I managed to
lead a fairly agreeable life with my messmates. They looked upon me as
a religious fanatic, but my laughter, my funny stories, and my
willingness to oblige offset with most of them my temperance
principles and religious fanaticism. The insults of the bruiser I
usually met with a smile and passed off with a joke; but when they
were long continued, they irritated me.

There is a monotony in the life of the average soldier or sailor which
has a very deadening effect upon character--seeing the same faces,
hearing the same things, performing the same routine in the same kind
of way every day, year in and year out, makes him a sort of automaton.
Kipling has told us something of the effect of this thing in "Soldiers
Three." There came a time when I broke under the strain of this man's
continued insults. For nearly a year I got comfort from the advice of
the brethren. We had a weekly meeting where our difficulties were
considered and prayed over, but the consolation of my brethren finally
refused to suffice, and, being a healthy, normal, vigorous animal with
some little experience of looking after myself, I began to resent the
insults and make some show of defence. This change of front incensed
the bully, and one day he hurled an exceedingly nasty epithet at
me--one of those vulgar but usual epithets current in army speech. The
reference in it to my mother stirred me with indignation and I