her bower cable bent round a large plane
tree) was really a fine first-rate without a
poop. From her peak a gay crimson silk
ensign drooped into the Bosphorus. A
motley crowd of idlers were lying about
her in various lazy positions. Achmet
Papuchi, the captain pasha, a sickly-looking
man, dressed from head to foot in orange-
coloured silk, was stretched on a couch in the
middle of the quarter deck, smoking, from a
porcelain narghilez.  He was surrounded by
obsequious attendents.  The admiral did not
know his letters: his secretary was therefore
reading his dispatches to him.

In various parts of the ship, the sailors
were lounging, or eating bread and olives, or
playing chess on the deck marked into squares
with chalk, or performing their devotions.
But, when the capitan pasha signified his
pleasure to descend to his cabin, there was a
great stir. Two officers supported him under
the arms as he made his way to the state
apartment of the Selimier. It was a cool,
elegant room; furnished with sun and moon
decorated chairs, and adorned with
emblazoned sentences from the Koran, and two
paintings of the ship. Piles of lemons,
heaped in the cabin windows, gave a refreshing
pungency to the air; and the fresh orange
boughs twined about the rails of the steps,
imparted to it a sweet odour. Amid the
Turkish decorations were Damascus sabres,
a Dollond's telescope, and French pistols.
Pages were at hand to fan the flies from
visitors, as they smoked and sipped sherbet.
Here was the captain, dressed in a white suit,
with a red fez and red slippers: when he
addressed the captain pasha, he kissed his
robe.  He took orders, and went off nimbly
to execute them.  The fleet was going on a
cruise in the Black Sea for the ostensible
purpose of giving battle to the Russians.  It
was droll to see a number of loosely-draped
fellows tear down the fore-tack, and make
the mast bend as the noble ship escaped on
her way to the Euxine, at the rate of nine
knots to the hour.  As the sun went down
gloriously, Imamis, from the mizen-rigging of
each ship, called the faithful to prayer.  The
call was devoutly obeyed, and the crews of
the ships were in a few minutes on their
knees: each man on his own coat: each
officer on a carpet.  Their devotions at an
end, the captain pasha's supper hour had
arrived.  This meal was spread on a carpet
between two guns on the main deck.  The
captain and his English naval friend sat
down upon the carpet opposite one another.
Having washed their hands in ewers held by
kneeling agas, and having had a napkin tied by
these functionaries round their necks, the two
began the evening meal by helping themselves
to conserves, bread and cake, &c., placed
before them, in little saucers upon a metal
tray.  The English sailor saw at once that
knives and forks were not to be expected;
for, on the appearance of the second dish (a
pile of red mullet), his host proceeded to turn
over each fish with his fingers, in the unselfish
search after the most acceptable specimen.

It may be supposed that his guest was
careful in selecting that mullet which had
undergone the least handling.  The fish fairly
disposed of, a fowl was produced; whereupon
the captain, placing his left thumb firmly
upon the bird, wrenched off a wing with his
right hand.  Unhappily for the Englishman,
he failed to imitate the dexterity of his host,
being restrained, by a lingering sense of
delicacy, from unceremoniously plunging his
fingers into the dish. An attendant advanced
to help him. This officer seized the fowl,
pulled its limbs off, and then dexterously
proceeded to peel the flesh from the breast
with his nails. The bracing nature of the
Black Sea air enabled the Englishman to
avail himself of the officer's kind interference,
and to set aside all delicacy when dealing
with the lamb and olives, and other dishes
which followed. After eating a little more
than he required, the Englishman was silently
hoping that the meal was at an end, when, to
his horror, a substantial dish of greasy pilaff
was placed upon the carpet. An honour
which he did not anticipate, awaited him.
The capitan pasha dipped his lean hand into
the mess and drew forth a substantial lump,
which he proceeded to roll into a ball.
Having handled it for a few minutes, until it
was reduced to the proportions of a grapeshot,
he leaned forward, and holding the ball
between his fingers, fairly pushed it into his
guest's mouth. The attendants stared to see
a capitan pasha pay so great an honour to a
stranger; the stranger felt that it was
possible to pay a compliment in a more acceptable
manner, and hastened to dip his tortoiseshell
spoon into the bowl of koshub which
followed. Chibouques and coffee were afterwards
served to the harsh strains of an
Albanian bagpipe, and then the pasha's
jester, attired in scarlet and gold, amused his
master by turning somersaults, and saying
sharp things.

To amuse the pasha and to superintend
his comforts, seemed to be the main
duties of the Selimier's crew. He could
not read; his rank shut him out from all
conversation; so there he sat, surrounded
by slaves, with his narghilez to his lips, and
his lazy fingers wandering about his
comboloyo, or rosary. If he drank, the glass was
held to his lips; if he expectorated, an officer
was at hand with a cloth to receive the result.
During the heat of the day, he crept into the
little box, six feet by three, which served him
for bed-room and dressing-room. Here, he
lay until the cool evening came, when (after
the performances of his band, consisting
chiefly of drums and cymbals) his crew
amused him with various coarse games. At
one time they ducked in tubs of water for
money; at another, the game was bear and
monkey—the bear and the monkey being