g to do when we are safe in port? Go home and show you are sorry,
eh?"

"Not home to my aunt's house; I'd rather break stones. Look here, she
just makes me feel wretched, as little Miss Joy makes me feel good."

"Ah, boy, that's the wrong end of the stick--the feeling good and
wicked, as you say. No, no; 'goodness,' as you call it, don't depend
on little Miss Joy, or wickedness on sharp-tempered viragos like you
say your aunt is. It is the _heart_, boy. If that is turned to God,
then we may hope to keep straight, by watching and praying; but it is a
fight, boy, as I find. As I told you, I find it hard enough to curb my
tongue; for it is like a ship flying afore the wind, with no rudder and
no pilot. Off I go, and the words drop from my lips like mad! But I
pray for help to bridle my tongue, and I cry to God for pardon every
time I take His blessed name in vain. Don't you learn bad ways aboard.
Most of the crew are steady young fellows. One or two of 'em are on
the right track; but that man who kicked you when you came aboard, you
beware of him. He is more dangerous when he is friendly than when he's
your enemy. So don't listen to him; it won't do you no good."

Amongst the passengers was a sweet-faced woman, with her little boy.
Jack took greatly to the child. He reminded him of Miss Joy, and he
would take his hand and lead him about the ship, and show off Toby's
tricks for his amusement.

The woman was on her way to Cairo to join her husband, who had a place
there in an English family as courier and valet. She had been sent
home by the doctors for her health, and was now on her outward-bound
voyage, with her little son.

She soon found that Jack was trustworthy, and she allowed her little
Peter to be with him whenever Jack had time to amuse him. Old Colley,
too, would set him on his knee, and tell him stories of the sea, and
the names of the sea-birds, which often followed the ship, and would
sometimes pounce down on any bit of biscuit or salt meat which might be
on deck.

It was a pretty sight when little Peter's golden hair rested against
Colley's blue jersey, and the child would put up his hand and stroke
the stubby beard of his new friend, and say--

"I shall be a sailor when I grow up. I love the sea."

Then Colley would stroke his head and say--"In calm weather it's
pleasant enough, boy. You wait till you have seen a storm."

The voyage out promised well till they came to the Bay of Bis