George--otherwise Kenneth Meredith, sub-lieutenant R.N.V.R. and second-in-command of H.M. Motor Launch 1071--deliberately blotted five lines of his weekly epistle to the fond ones at home. Unperturbed by a heavy fusillade upon the deck--the sound being caused by a broken golf club vigorously manipulated by an as yet invisible person--Meredith dexterously threw into envelopes and blotting-pad into a conveniently placed rack, rammed the cork into the glass ink-bottle, and thrust his fountain-pen, which either "founted" like a miniature Niagara or else obstinately refused to "fount" at all, into the breast pocket of his monkey-jacket. Interruptions are many and varied on board the M.L.'s. At a…
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