keep under them, and at such a moment a blood-thirsty crowd becomes
crazed for the accomplishment of something that looks like murder. The
injection of the minor prophets made a ludicrous ending of a thing
that had at the beginning almost paralyzed me with fear. So the thing
ended with the bully of the mess lying prostrate on his back. I was
not presentable as a waiter for several days, but inside of an hour
everybody on the ship knew what had happened, and for the second time
in my life I was hailed as a bruiser.

To impress a thousand men in such a manner creates an egotism which is
very likely to be lasting. I had not accomplished very much in my
studies. I was nothing in particular among my religious brethren. My
general reputation up to this moment in the ship was that of a
simple-minded Irish lad, who was a religious fanatic, a sort of sky
pilot or "Holy Joe." I became flushed with the only victory worth
while in the army or navy, and the second experience lasted twice as
long as the first.

The next thing to be done, of course, by my friends and admirers, was
to pit me against the bruisers of other ships. Two of the officers
wanted to know my plans. This recognition heightened my vanity.
Prayer-meeting night came along, and I was ashamed to attend. A
committee was sent to help me out, and the following week the
prodigal returned. The proper thing to do on my return was to confess
my sin and ask the brethren to pray for me; but when I failed to do
this, I became a subject of deep concern and solicitude. I tried to
cultivate a sense of conviction, but succeeded indifferently. The
deference paid me by the men of the mess was not calculated to help me
out. I felt very keenly the suspicion of my brethren, but it was
compensated for by the fact that among the ordinary men I had now a