"
The flags, or substitutes for them, streamed another minute in the
breeze, but as there was still no answer made from our end of the
string, they were once more hauled down--We waited another minute--"Why,
here goes the same signal up again, tablecloth, towel, dishclout, and
all--What the diable have we got here? A red ball, two pennants under.
What can that mean?--Ball--it is the bonnet--rouge, or I am a Dutchman,
with two short streamers" Another look--"A red night--cap and a pair of
stockings, by all that is portentous!" exclaimed I.
"Ah, I see, I see!" said the lieutenant, laughing, "signal--man,
acknowledge it."
It was done, and down came all the flags in a trice. It appeared, on
enquiry, that the washing cart, which ought to have been sent up that
morning, had been forgotten; and the Admiral and his secretary having
ridden out, there was no one who could make the proper signal for it.
So the old housekeeper took this singular method of having the cart
despatched, and it was sent off accordingly.
For the first week after I entered on my new office, I was busily
engaged on board; during which time my mind was quite made up, that the
most rising man in his Majesty's service, beyond all compare, was
Lieutenant Thomas Cringle, third of the Firebrand. During this eventful
period I never addressed a note to any friend on shore, or to a brother
officer, without writing in the left--hand lower corner of the envelope,
"Lieutenant Cringle," and clapping three dashing, &c.
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