One boat, or perhaps two, were sent from some of the ships--but not enough to save her; so poor Jock lay on the shoal till he capsized, and there was an end of him; for it came on to blow, and the shore, from South Sea Castle to Blackhouse Point, was a complete beach of coal shingle.
Next morning out came a swinging reprimand to all of us, ordering a "report in writing to be made forthwith of the reasons why the signal made at four P.M.to send boats to the collier had not been obeyed." I recommend folks fitting out, therefore, as they value their peace, to trifle with anything rather than the port orders.

For it is well to consider, that a scold resembles a snow-ball--it always gathers weight as it rolls along.

Thus the Admiralty send down, by post or by telegraph, a rap on the knuckles to the old admiral--very moderate as naval things go, but such as, in civil life, would make a sober citizen frantic, though it merely squeezes out a growl from the venerable commander-in-chief.

Straightway he rings for the secretary, and issues a smartish general order, in which the wretched captain of the offending ship catches the reprimand, with a most usurious allowance of interest.

Off goes the said skipper to his ship, in a great fume and hurry, carrying a whole sail in the gig, though on ordinary occasions he chooses to have a reef in.