A SCENE IN THE FORECASTLE

I HAD scarcely been aboard of the ship twenty-four hours, when a
circumstance occurred, which, although noways picturesque, is so
significant of the state of affairs that I cannot forbear relating
it.

In the first place, however, it must be known, that among the crew was
a man so excessively ugly, that he went by the ironical appellation
of "Beauty." He was the ship's carpenter; and for that reason was
sometimes known by his nautical cognomen of "Chips." There was no
absolute deformity about the man; he was symmetrically ugly. But ill
favoured as he was in person, Beauty was none the less ugly in
temper; but no one could blame him; his countenance had soured his
heart. Now Jermin and Beauty were always at swords' points. The
truth was, the latter was the only man in the ship whom the mate had
never decidedly got the better of; and hence the grudge he bore him.
As for Beauty, he prided himself upon talking up to the mate, as we
shall soon see.

Toward evening there was something to be done on deck, and the
carpenter who belonged to the watch was missing. "Where's that skulk,
Chips?" shouted Jermin down the forecastle scuttle.

"Taking his ease, d'ye see, down here on a chest, if you want to
know," replied that worthy himself, quietly withdrawing his pipe from
his mouth. This insolence flung the fiery little mate into a mighty
rage; but Beauty said nothing, puffing away with all the tranquillity
imaginable. Here it must be remembered that, never mind what may be
the provocation, no prudent officer ever dreams of entering a ship's