suddenly stowed it away--
when much enraged by an impudent fellow who was shooting on our cape--in
the stomach of his breeches instead of in the usual hind-pocket of his
coat. The intruder seemed to understand the warlike signal, for he
immediately stopped his insolence and made off. In fact, the Captain's
red bandanna was like the Spanish woman's fan--a language in itself.

One evening we all finished our lessons early and drew our stools about
the stove. Our salt tute was snoring bass and Ugly treble, so we did
not disturb their dreams, but talked in low voices to Mr Clare, until,
whether intentionally or irresistibly I know not, Drake gave a
tremendous sneeze, so loud and shrill that Ugly sprang to his legs with
a loud bark, and the Captain's head bounced from his chest and struck
the back of his chair with a bang.

"Bless my heart!" said the Captain, clutching the handkerchief from his
knees, and commencing to wipe his head with it. "Bless my soul, I
rather think that I must have been napping. There you are, all laughing
around the fire, whilst I have been dreaming of--well, never mind--days
gone by--you may depend on that; but, Ugly, what were your dreams about,
eh?"

"We should like to hear, though, something about those days gone by,
Captain," said Mr Clare, suspecting that the worthy old seaman was in
the vein for story-telling. "It is a long time since you have spun us a
yarn, and the boys have been much wishing for one."

"Ay, that we have, Captain," we all sang out together; "we should like
to hear something about those days gone by which you were dreaming of
just now. We are sure from your countenance that there is something
interesting; come, tell us all about it."

"You'll be disappointed, then. It's curious, and that is all I can say
in its favour," answered the skipper; "I was thinking, or dreaming
rather, of a circumstance which I haven't thought of for many a year
that I can remember, which occurred during my first voyage. However,
I'll undertake to tell it you if, when I've done, Mr Clare will spin
you one of his yarns. He can spin one better than I can. Come, make
him promise, and I will begin. If not, I'll shut up my mouth."

On this, of course, we all turned on our fresh water tutor and attacked
him. "Come; Mr Clare, do promise us to give us one of your stories.
Something about your life in America; you saw a good many curious things
out there in the backwoods, which we should l