with that I went home and dined on tatties an' bacon. It hardly
seems a thing to be believed at this distance o' time, but I never
relished tatties an' bacon better in my life than that day--an' yet
not meanin' the laste disrespect to King Gearge. Disrespect? If his
Majesty only knew it, he've no better friend in the world than Israel
Spettigew. God save the King!"

And with this Uncle Issy pulled off his cap and waved it round his
head, thereby shedding a _moulinet_ of raindrops full in the faces
of his comrades around.

This was observed by Captain Pond, standing on the platform above,
beside Thundering Meg, the big 24-pounder, which with four
18-pounders on the shore-wall formed the lower defences of the haven.

"Mr. Clogg," he called to his junior lieutenant, "tell Gunner
Spettigew to put on his hat at once. Ask him what he means by taking
his death and disgracing the company."

The junior lieutenant--a small farmer from Talland parish--touched
his cap, spread his hand suddenly over his face and sneezed.

"Hullo! You've got a cold."

"No, sir. I often sneezes like that, and no reason for it whatever."

"I've never noticed it before."

"No, sir. I keeps it under so well as I can. A great deal can be
done sometimes by pressing your thumb on the upper lip."