Next morning, soon after breakfast, we went on shore to pay a visit to the dockyard.  On entering, papa was desired to put down his name; and the man seeing that he was a captain in the navy, we were allowed to go on without a policeman in attendance, and nearly lost ourselves among the storehouses and docks.  As we walked past the lines of lofty sheds, we heard from all directions the ringing clank of iron, instead of, as in days of yore, the dull thud of the shipwright's mallet, and saw the ground under each shed strewed with ribs and sheets of iron ready to be fixed to the vast skeletons within.  Papa could not help sighing, and saying that he wished "the days of honest sailing ships could come back again."  However, he directly afterwards observed, "I should be sorry to get back, at the same time, the abuses, the wild doings, and the profligacy which then prevailed.  Things have undoubtedly greatly improved, though they are bad enough even now."