eir skins are so black. But, as I was saying, they
don't seem to want beef, or mutton, or pickled pork, and yet they get
fat. It's the sunshine, I believe. They go on swallowing that all day
long. I mean to try how it acts as soon as I get a good chance."

"You're quite lazy enough without doing that," said Jack, laughing.

"Now I do call that 'ard, Mr Jack, sir--reg'lar out an' out hard. I'm
sure I never neglects anything. You don't want, nor Sir John neither,
anything like so much valeting as you do at home. There's no boots to
brush, nor clothes neither. I'm sure, sir, I never neglected you, only
just for that little bit when I seemed to be standing on my head because
my legs wouldn't hold me up--now, have I, sir?"

"Oh no. You've always been very attentive, Ned."

"Then that's why I call it 'ard, sir. Ever since you've been growing
sharp and quick, and wanting to do something else besides read, you've
been getting 'arder to me, sir, and I don't like it."

"Oh, nonsense. I've only laughed at you sometimes."

"Well, sir, look at that. You never used to laugh at me at home, nor
you usen't to order me about, nor you usen't to--well, you never used to
do nothing, sir, but read."

Jack frowned, and reddened a little.

"I put out your clothes and boots for you, and you put 'em on--just what
I liked to put for you. You used to get up when I called you, and you'd
have eat anything that was put before you, and said nothing. While now
you're getting particular about your food even, and you order me about--
and I won't say bully me, because it ain't quite true; but you've said
lots o' sharp things to me, and I feel 'mazed like sometimes to hear
you, for it don't sound like you at all. It's just as if you'd got
yourself changed, sir."

"Perhaps I have, Ned, for I feel changed," said the boy.

"Yes, sir, you are changed a lot, and I hope it's right."

"I hope so, Ned," said Jack, and he walked away.

"Don't even use his legs like he did a month ago. I can't quite
understand it, but it ain't my business. Couldn't have been right for
him to be always sitting over a book, and when he got up, looking as if
he was still all among the Romans and Greek 'uns. But it seems so
sudden like, and as if he might go back again. But I s'pose we shall
see."

Jack at Sea--by George Manville Fenn

CHAPTER TWELVE.

A FINNY PRIZE.

The run through the Canal did not seem monotonous to Sir John, for a new
feel