man, feeling that his life had,
through God's mercy, been preserved that he might do Him service, became
a thorough Christian, in practice as well as in name, and a first-rate
officer; while Ellis continued as he had begun, aided and encouraged, I
have no doubt, by his excellent wife, to the end of his life.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note. This account was given to the author by the late Admiral
Saumarez, and the words are to the best of his recollection those used
by the man who performed the act recorded.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

THE TWO SAILOR-BOYS, A TRUE TALE

NED BURTON LOSES HIS MOTHER, AND IS LEFT PENNILESS--WALKS TO PORTSMOUTH,
AND IS DISHEARTENED--IS CHEERED, DIRECTED, AND HELPED BY OLD MOLL--GETS
ON BOARD THE TRAINING SHIP--AND MAKES A FRIEND--BUT IS REJECTED FOR NOT
BEING ABLE TO READ--COMFORTED BY BILL HUDSON--BILL'S SHIPMATES HELP NED
TO FIELD LANE--BILL TAKES HIM THERE--HE IS KINDLY RECEIVED--IS MADE A
SAILOR OF AT LAST.

On a miserable pallet bedstead, in a small attic of one of the meanest
houses in the lowest portion of a provincial town in the south of
England, a woman lay dying. The curtainless window and window--panes,
stuffed with straw, the scanty patchwork covering to the bed, the single
rickety chair, the unswept floor, the damp, mildewed walls, the door
falling from its hinges, told of pinching poverty. On the opposite
corner to the bedstead there was a heap of straw, to serve as another
bed, and against the wall a much-battered sea-chest and an open basket,
containing even now a few rotting oranges, some damaged tapes, and such
articles as are vended by small hawkers. Standing by the bed-side was a
lad with an intelligent, not ill-favoured, countenance, though sickly,
and expressive of deep grief, as he gazed on the face of one who had
ever been a kind mother to him, and from whom he now knew full well that
he was to be parted for ever.

"Ned, my boy, I have done my best to keep myself and thee from the
workhouse," said the woman, trying to lift herself up on her arm, that
she might the better see the lad. "It has been a hard struggle, but I
have done it for thy father's sake. He was a sailor, and would never
have thought to see me come to this pass. Thou must be one, too, Ned.
It's a rough life, but better far than starving on shore. I've done
little for thee, lad, but feed thee, and try to teach thee to be honest,
as thy father was