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He would surely soon find good friends among them, and he only hoped he might be able to be of some service to them. The young fellow on his right introduced himself as Captain Hopeton. He was a young English public school boy, who, though a failure as a rancher, had proved an immense success in the social circles of the city.
One of the most natural instances of the effect of blank verse occurred to the late Earl of Hopeton.
While still a day and a night out from land, Barry awoke in the dim light of a misty morning, and proceeded to the deck for his constitutional. There he fell in with Captain Neil Fraser and Captain Hopeton pacing up and down. "Come along, Pilot!" said Captain Neil, heartily, between whom and the chaplain during the last few days a cordial friendship had sprung up. "We're looking for submarines.
"A bull, begad! a clean bull!" murmured Hopeton, supporting his friend out of the room as he added, "A little fresh air, as a preventative of vertigo, as the old doc says, eh, Sally." "Good Lord, is he just a plain ass, or what?" inquired young Booth, his eye following Barry down the room. "Ass! A mule, I should say. And one with a good lot of kick in him," replied Captain Train.
Good old John Bull!" while Hopeton, openly abandoning the traditional reserve and self-control supposed to be a characteristic of the English public school boy, climbed upon the rail and, hanging by a stanchion with one hand, and with the other frantically waving his cap over his head, continued to shout: "England! England! England forever!"
This is the place and the time for Fritz, if he is going to get us at all." Arm in arm they made the circle of the deck. The mist, lying like a bank upon the sea, shifted the horizon to within a thousand yards of the ship. "I wish I knew just what lies behind that bank there," said Captain Hopeton, pointing over the bow. For some moments they stood, peering idly into the mist.
"Who does the old man want to see?" inquired Sally, who, with Hopeton and Booth, happened to be passing. "The chaplain," snapped the M. O., going on his way. "The chaplain? By Jove, he's a queer one, eh?" The M. O. turned sharply back, and coming very close to Sally, said in a wrathful voice: "A queer one? Yes, a queer one!
"I'll tell you what it's like exactly like the eye of an oyster in its pulp. And, by Jove, there's another!" added Barry excitedly. "I can't see anything," said Captain Neil. "But I can," insisted Barry. "Look there, Hopeton!" Hopeton fixed his glass upon the mist, where Barry pointed. "You're right! There is something, and there are two of them." "Give the Pilot the glass, Hopeton," said Neil.
"For that same notion you are free from henceforth and for ever of my watery realms; seeing also as how you have been lathered and shaved and crossed the line. So here are three cheers for Mr Harry Hopeton; and may he live to sail round the world, and to command as fine a ship as this here craft and finer, too!"
As Mr. Free's letter may be as great a curiosity to you as it has been to us, I enclose you a copy of it, which Hopeton obtained for me. It certainly places the estimable Mike in a strong light as a despatch-writer.
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