is a tog," observed Jansen.

"Yes," replied one of the forecastle men, "we all know dog is a dog, but
the question is--is _this_ dog a dog?"

Here there was a pause, which Jemmy Ducks filled up by again touching
the strings of his fiddle.

The fact was, that, although every one of the sailors wished the dog was
overboard, there was not one who wished to commit the deed, not on
account of the fear of its being discovered who was the party by Mr
Vanslyperken, but because there was a great deal of superstition among
them. It was considered unlucky to throw any dog or animal overboard;
but the strange stories told about the way in which Snarleyyow first
made his appearance in the vessel, added to the peculiarly diabolical
temper of the animal, had often been the theme of midnight conversation,
and many of them were convinced that it was an imp of Satan lent to
Vanslyperken, and that to injure or to attempt to destroy it would
infallibly be followed up with terrible consequences to the party, if
not to the vessel and all the crew. Even Short, Coble, and Jansen, who
were the boldest and leading men, although when their sympathies were
roused by the suffering of poor Smallbones they were anxious to revenge
him, had their own misgivings, and, on consideration, did not like to
have anything to do with the business. But each of them kept their
reflections to themselves, for, if they could not combat, they were too
proud to acknowledge them.

The reader will observe that all their plans were immediately put an end
to until this important question, and not a little difficult one, was
decided--Was the dog a dog?

Now, although the story had often been told, yet, as the crew of the
cutter had been paid off since the animal had been brought on board,
there was no man in the ship who could positively detail, from his own
knowledge, the facts connected with his first appearance--there was only
tradition, and to solve this question, to tradition they were obliged to
repair.

"Now, Bill Spurey," said Coble, "you know more about this matter than
any one, so just spin us the yarn, and then we shall be able to talk the
matter over soberly."

"Well," replied Bill Spurey, "you shall have it just as I got it word
for word, as near as I can recollect. You know I wasn't in the craft
when the thing came on board, but Joe Geary was, and it was one night
when we were boozing over a stiff glass at the new shop there, the
Orange Boven, a