So much for Portsdown fair.
It was on a Saturday that I returned to my duty, and Sunday being a fine
day, we all went on shore to church with Mr Falcon, the first
lieutenant. We liked going to church very much, not, I am sorry to say,
from religious feelings, but for the following reason:--The first
lieutenant sat in a pew below, and we were placed in the gallery above,
where he could not see us, nor indeed could we see him. We all remained
very quiet, and I may say very devout, during the time of the service;
but the clergyman who delivered the sermon was so tedious, and had such
a bad voice, that we generally slipped out as soon as he went up into
the pulpit, and adjourned to a pastry-cook's opposite, to eat cakes and
tarts and drink cherry-brandy, which we infinitely preferred to hearing
a sermon. Somehow or other, the first lieutenant had scent of our
proceedings: we believed that the marine officer informed against us,
and this Sunday he served us a pretty trick. We had been at the
pastry-cook's as usual, and as soon as we perceived the people coming
out of church, we put all our tarts and sweetmeats into our hats, which
we then slipped on our heads, and took our station at the church-door,
as if we had just come down from the gallery, and had been waiting for
him. Instead, however, of appearing at the church-door, he walked up the
street, and desired us to follow him to the boat. The fact was, he had
been in the back-room at the pastry-cook's watching our motions through
the green blinds.
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