Minds me of a dog and a bull." "Maybe the old man'll take a hand just for practice." And John Ozanne was quite willing.

We were ordered to quarters, and ran in, with our colours up, prepared to take our share.

But the commander of the brig had his own ideas on that matter, strong ones too, and he intimated them in the most unmistakable way by a shot across our bows, as a hint to us to mind our own business and leave him to his.
A hoarse laugh and a ringing cheer went up from the _Swallow_ at this truly bull-dog spirit, and we drew off and lay-to to watch the result.
The Frenchman was fully three times the size of his plucky little antagonist, but the Englishman as usual had the advantage in seamanship.

He had managed to cripple his enemy early in the fight, and now had it all his own way.

We watched till the Frenchman's colours came down, then gave the victors another hearty cheer, and went on our way to seek fighting of our own.
For three days we never sighted a sail.