pely nose. Proud am I
to be dubbed the Perfect Pig."

"_Oh!_" said the tearful damsel, and potential murder informed the
monosyllable.

"See here," said the Tyro persuasively: "tell me, why are you so cross
with me?"

"Because you pitied me."

"Anybody would. You look so helpless and miserable."

"I'm not muh-muh-miserable!"

"I beg your pardon. Of course you're not. Any one could see that."

"I _am_. But I don't care. I _won't_ be pitied. How dare you pity me! I
hate people that--that go around pitying other people."

"I'll promise never to do it again. Only spare my life this time. Now
I'm going to go away and stop bothering you. But if you find things
getting too dull for you during the voyage, I'll be around somewhere
within call. Good-bye, and good luck."

A little hand went out to him--impulsively.

"I _am_ sorry," came the whisper--it was almost free of tragic effect
this time--"and I really think you--you're rather a dear."

The Tyro marched away in the righteous consciousness of having done his
full duty by helpless and unattractive girlhood. The girl retired
presently to her cabin, and made a fair start on her announced policy of
crying all the way from America to Europe. When, however, the ship met
with a playful little cross-sea and began to bobble and weave and splash
about in the manner of our top-heavy leviathans of travel, she was
impelled to take thought of her inner self, and presently sought the
fresh and open air of the deck lest a worse thing befall her. There in a
sheltered angle she snuggled deep in her chair, and presently, braced by
the vivifying air, was by way of almost enjoying herself. And thither
fate drove the Tyro, with relentless purpose, into her clutches.

With his friend Alderson, who had retrieved him late in the afternoon
after he had unpacked, the Tyro was making rather uncertain weather of
it along the jerking deck, when an unusually abrupt buck-jump executed
by the Macgregor sent him reeling up against the cabin rail at the angle
behind which the girl sheltered.

"Let's stop here for a minute," panted Alderson. "Haven't got my
sea-legs yet." There was a pause. "Did I see you making yourself
agreeable to a young person of the dangerous sex a couple of hours ago?"

"Agreeable? Well, judging by results, no. I doubt if Chesterfield
himself could have made himself agreeable to Little Miss Grouch."

"Miss _Who_?"

"Little Miss Grouch. Don't know her real name. But t