CHAPTER XIII.
The first lieutenant prescribes for one of his patients, his prescriptions consisting of _draughts_ only--O'Brien finishes the history of his life, in which the proverb of "the more the merrier" is sadly disproved--_Shipping_ a new pair of boots causes the _unshipping_ of their owner--Walking home after a ball, O'Brien meets with an accident.
The next morning I was on deck at seven bells, to see the hammocks stowed, when I was witness to Mr Falcon, the first lieutenant, having recourse to one of his remedies to cure a mizen-top-boy of smoking, a practice to which he had a great aversion.

He never interfered with the men smoking in the galley, or chewing tobacco; but he prevented the boys, that is, lads under twenty or there-abouts, from indulging in the habit too early.

The first lieutenant smelt the tobacco as the boy passed him on the quarter-deck.

"Why, Neill, you have been smoking," said the first lieutenant.

"I thought you were aware that I did not permit such lads as you to use tobacco." "If you please, sir," replied the mizen-top-man, touching his hat, "I'se got worms, and they say that smoking be good for them." "Good for them!" said the first lieutenant; "yes, very good for them, but very bad for you.