dog at Smithfield has but a slight duty to
perform in getting his flock into their pen,
compared with that of officers and non-
commissioned officers in routing the stragglers
out of the public-houses into which they will
drop to take "the parting-glass" with each
other, though their destination be identical,
and the dreaded separation no greater than
the distance between their respective
hammocks. The ladies too—pity that we should
say so—give no little trouble. The stern
rules of the service admit of only six married
women per company; and the selection, in
this case, is guided by the good conduct of
the claimants, of whom there are always more
than the regulations admit of taking. Add
to this, the fact, that it generally happens that
promises which, no doubt, would gladly be
forgotten—not to say broken — are rigidly
enforced during the last week before the
regiment embarks, by damsels who will not be
included in the category alluded to in the
pleasant tune with which the men march out
of quarters. The consequence of this is, that
three or four women, per company, are often
added to its strength — we must not say its
weakness — at the very last moment, for whom
there is not the shadow of a chance that they
will be permitted to go out with their
hubands. Nevertheless, they marry; they climb
into the baggage-wagon, "just to say goodbye,"
—they weep and embrace, and wave
their handkerchiefs at the water-side; they
scream "farewell," in accents of the wildest
despair; they swoon on the beach, are carried
off by compassionate individuals, and are seen
no more, till some four or five days
afterwards, when the transport is fairly "in blue
water," when they emerge from their hiding-
places, between decks, satisfied — though they
are not to be provisioned, and are threatened
with all sorts of pains and penalties—that it
is impossible now to send them back; in spite
of the declaration of the commanding officer
on board, that he will hail the first vessel he
meets returning to England, and trans-ship
them in the middle of the Atlantic!

How these extra women manage to effect
their entrance into the transport, is a mystery
as great as that which puzzled George the
Third in the celebrated case of the apple-
dumplings; but ban and bar them as you
will, seize on them when they are half-way
up the side, put double sentries at each gang-
way, resort to every ingenious expedient that
can be thought of, and, malgré tous, not a
"man-jack" of these Ariadnes will be left
behind. Perhaps the inappropriate word we
have just used may furnish some clue to the
enigma in the alteration of costume; but this
is a mere conjecture on our part, having no
experience to recount of having detected the
Billy Taylor transmigration.

The distribution of the troops into their
several berths; the stowing of the baggage
into impossible corners — perhaps already filled
by some of the prohibited women; the safe
bestowal of "the inebriated;" the successful
mustering of "the sick, lame, and lazy;" are
strokes of art which ought alone to ensure the
promotion of those who are called upon to
perform them. If the people of the transport
lent any kind of assistance, it would be something;
but from the agent in his cabin, to the
loblolly boy in the caboose, the sole
occupation of each consists in damning "the
sogers" and sulkily refusing to answer the
simplest questions; so that they don't mend
the matter, and the only thing left, is to trust
to time and that providential interference,
which is always working for our good, unseen,
though we by no means recommend those in
difficulties to trust to it alone.

As long as the transport is in harbour,
difficulties abound; boats are always coming
alongside with hecatombs of fresh meat and
piles of vegetables, for the officers and
sergeants' messes: smugglers insinuate gin in
bladders; an unlucky woman is discovered,
and sent ashore, who comes back again somehow,
like a bad penny—probably in the
return boat; in short, until the Blue Peter is
hoisted, the vessel is one scene of unutterable
confusion. In the early days of Patrick
Mac Manus, this scene was prolonged till the
wind blew fair, but the steam-tugs now are
the " tricksy spirits" that supersede the wind
till the transports are outside.

It was by the aid of two of these
nautical Effreets that the "Eliza Biggleswade"
transport, with "No. 27 " painted on each
side of her bows, which conveyed the last
division of the —Regiment, was tugged
into the Channel, where Maurice Savage, and
about a hundred and fifty of his comrades—
to say nothing of women and children—
commenced that series of involuntary evolutions
which are almost invariably performed by
those who have never been at sea before.

In the course of a few days, however,
matters righted themselves a little. Soldiers
are not allowed to be sick any longer than is
absolutely necessary; and it is surprising how
effective the word of command is which sends
a fellow on deck to look out for his grog at
the tub, or his ration at the caboose, when he
knows that if he remains below he shall
receive neither. "Sea legs" are not very
readily found in ordinary cases; but a soldier
discovers his as soon as most people, having
his ranks to keep, and certain manoeuvres to
go through on a limited scale, in spite of the
rolling or pitching of the vessel, and at the
expiration of a week or so, there remained
scarcely half-a-dozen on board the "Eliza
Biggleswade " who had not been laughed
or drilled out of their "sea-sorrows." The
voyage was accomplished without any
remarkable casualties; there was cod-fishing
by day, on the Banks of Newfoundland, to
amuse the men. and give them a welcome
supply, and a careful watch and ward by
night on the same banks to escape being run
down in the heavy Newfoundland fogs.