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247 "On board of the Bronx!" exclaimed the flag-officer. "Do you mean that you had a mutiny to suppress?"

joker auto123 "Then you had better turn in, Captain Passford," said the executive officer. "We can do nothing more to-night except to keep a sharp lookout." Standing on the bridge with the executive officer, Christy took his leave mentally of the flag-ship, and the few other vessels that were on the 254 station; for most of them were on duty in various expeditions engaged in the destruction of salt works. A boat expedition had just captured Appalachicola, with all the vessels loading with cotton in the bay. The young commander congratulated himself that he had a fast steamer, for that caused him to be employed in more active duty than the work of destruction on shore. Christy handed him the appointment just made, and the steward danced about like a madman. He 365 had expected nothing for his meritorious service, and he found himself in a position of trust and responsibility. He expressed his gratitude in the most earnest language, and without using a single objectionable phrase, for his education was better than his habit in the use of speech. "But we have plenty of good men, and some of them will make good officers," suggested the first lieutenant. "I done get sick, massa, and I's gwine up to de big house to see de doctor," replied the negro, who probably used the first excuse that came into his head. "They are awake there," said Christy with a smile to the first lieutenant, and both of them watched for the fall of the shot, which struck the water at least a quarter of a mile ahead of the vessel. "Beat to quarters, Mr. Flint."