I don't play my fiddle, nor sing songs, nor spin
long yarns about things that never happened, as I think myself a more
respectable sort of chap than I used to be."

I was glad to hear Jerry say this of himself, though maybe his notion
that it was allowable to spin long yarns which had, as he confessed, no
foundation in truth, on other days in the week, was not a very correct
one. I told him so.

"As to that," he answered, "my hearers don't take my yarns for gospel
any more than the tales they read in books. Some people write long
yarns which aren't true, and I spin much shorter ones out of my mouth.
Where's the difference, I should like to know? Mine don't do any mortal
being the slightest, harm, and that's more than can be said of some
books I've fallen in with. My yarns go in at one ear and out at the
other, and, supposing them worse than they are, they can't be dwelt upon
like those in books. I never speak of a real man except to praise him;
and if I paint a scoundrel, I always give him a purser's name. I
produce many a hearty laugh, but never cause a blush to rise on a
maiden's cheeks; and so, Ben, don't be hard on me."

I confessed that he had made out a good case, and that I was wrong to
find fault with him. At this he seemed much pleased, and, laughing
heartily, told me that I reminded him of the little boy who wanted to
teach his grandfather to suck eggs.

Jerry had been so accustomed to wandering about, that though Susan did
her best to make him comfortable, and he always found a willing listener
in Harry, after he had been with us three days he began to weary of
staying quiet, and announced that he must get under way. The next
morning he appeared in his weekday clothes, shouldering his knapsack and
model ship. After wishing us all good-bye, he trudged off, intending,
as he said, to go to the west end of the island.

"You will not forget that matter about Harry?" I said.

"No fear, Ben! It's the main thing I have on my mind; and if I succeed
in picking up any information, I will let you know--depend on that," he
answered. "Heaven bless you, and Susan and the boy!"

We watched him as he trudged sturdily away over the hills towards the
town, having, I observed, again assumed his independent, happy-go-lucky
air, which he had laid aside during his stay with us.

CHAPTER SIX.

Harry had been greatly taken with Jerry, and seemed to miss him very
much. He used to go out most days to play wi