s still none of the best, many things
which Mrs. Church fondly and frequently referred to having escaped it
altogether.

He even forgot that he was to be married in October, and in these
circumstances Mrs. Gibson, Miss Banks, and Mrs. Church put their banns
up. This acted as a specific, and Captain Barber, putting the best
face he could on the matter, went and interviewed the verger on his own
behalf.

The wedding-day found him resigned, but dazed, The morning air was crisp
and chill, with a faint odour of dead leaves and the aromatic smell of
chrysanthemums which decked the front garden. The house was as clean
as a new pin, or the deck of the _Foam_, which, having been thoroughly
scrubbed down in honour of the occasion, was now slowly drying in the
sun. Down below, the crew, having finished their labours for the day,
were anxiously attiring themselves in their Sunday best.

The grizzled head of Ben popped out at the companion and sniffed
heartily at the smell of wet deck. His coat was of black, and his new
boots creaked deliciously as he slowly paced the deck and affected
ignorance of the little cluster of heads at the forecastle hatch. He
went below again, and a murmur, gentle but threatening, rose against
Tim.

"You wait," said the youth, sharply.

"If you've made me waste eighteenpence, Timmy," said a stout A. B.
named Jones, "the Lord ha' mercy on you, 'cos I won't."

The cook, who was clinging to the ladder with his head level with the
deck, gave an excited gasp. "Tim's all right," he said; "look there."

The last words were jerked out of him by reason of the weight of his
friends, who were now leaning on him, breathing heavily under the
stress of strong excitement. Ben was on deck again, and in an obviously
unconcerned manner was displaying a silk hat of great height to all
who cared to look. The mate's appearance alone, without the flags which
dressed the schooner, would have indicated a festival.

Three or four labourers sunning themselves on the quay were much
impressed and regarded him stolidy; a fisherman, presuming upon the fact
that they both earned their living on the water, ventured to address
him.

"Now, then," said Jones, as he took something reverently from an empty
bunk, "who's going up fust?"

"I ain't," said Tim.

"Wot about you, cookie?" said Jones.

"Well, wot about me?" demanded the other.

"I thought p'r'aps you'd like to lead the way," said Mr. Jones, mildly.

"You thought w