CHAPTER XVII.
Mr Chucks's opinion on proper names--He finishes his Spanish tale--March of intellect among the Warrant Officers.
We were all delighted when our signal was hoisted to "part company," as we anticipated plenty of prize-money under such an enterprising captain.
We steered for the French coast, near to its junction with Spain, the captain having orders to intercept any convoys sent to supply the French army with stores and provisions.
The day after we parted company with the fleet, Mr Chucks finished his story.
"Where was I, Mr Simple, when I left off ?" said he, as we took a seat upon the long eighteen.
"You had just left the house after having told them that you were a corregidor, and had kissed the lady's hand." "Very true.

Well, Mr Simple, I did not call there for two or three days afterwards; I did not like to go too soon, especially as I saw the young lady every day in the Plaza.

She would not speak to me, but, to make use of their expression, 'she gave me her eyes,' and sometimes a sweet smile.

I recollect I was so busy looking at her one day, that I tripped over my sword, and nearly fell on my nose, at which she burst out a laughing." "Your sword, Mr Chucks?
I thought boatswains never wore swords." "Mr Simple, a boatswain is an officer, and is entitled to a sword as well as the captain, although we have been laughed out of it by a set of midshipman monkeys.

I always wore my sword at that time; but now-a-days, a boatswain is counted as nobody, unless there is hard work to do, and then it's Mr Chucks this, and Mr Chucks that.