be fifty come Michaelmas. Isn' that enough?"

"Nobody likes it, sir; not at our age. But all the same I reckon there
be compensations." Mr Tregaskis, shading his eyes (for the day was
sunny), let his gaze travel up the spars and rigging of the
Barquentine--up to the truck of her maintopmast, where a gull had
perched itself and stood with tail pointing like a vane. "If the truth
were known, maybe your landsman on an average don't do as he chooses any
more than we mariners."

"Tut, man!" The Captain, who held the tiller, had ceased to look aft.
His eyes were on the quay and the small town climbing the hillside above
it in tier upon tier of huddled grey houses. "Why, damme!
Your landsman chooses to live ashore, to begin with. What's more, he
can walk where he has a mind to, no matter where the wind sits."

Mr Tregaskis shook his head. Having no hat, he was able to do this, and
it gave him some dialectical advantage over his skipper.

"In practice, sir, you'd find it depend on who's left to mind the shop."

"Home's home, all the same," said Captain Cai positively, thrusting over
the tiller to round in for the landing-stairs. "I was born and reared
in Troy, d'ye see? and as the sayin' goes--Steady on!"

A small schooner, the _Pure Gem_ of Padstow, had warped out from the
quay overnight after discharging her ballast with the usual disregard of
the Harbour Commissioners' bye-laws; and a number of ponderable stones,
now barely covered by the tide, encumbered the foot of the landing.
On one of these the boat caught her heel, with a jerk that flung the two
oarsmen sprawling and toppled Captain Hocken's tall hat over his nose.
Mr Tregaskis thrust out a hand to catch it, but in too great a haste.
The impact of his finger-tips on the edge of the crown sent the hat
spinning forward over the thwart whereon sprawled Ben Price, the stroke
oar, and into the lap of Nathaniel Berry, bowman.

Nathaniel Berry, recovering his balance, rescued the headgear from the
grip of his knees, gave it a polite brush the wrong way of the nap, and
passed it aft to Ben Price. Ben--a bald-headed but able seaman--eyed it
a moment, rubbed it the right way dubiously with his elbow, and handed
it on to the mate; who in turn smoothed it with the palm of his hand,
which--being an alert obliging man--he had dexterously wetted overside
before the Captain could stop him.

"That's no method to improve a hat," said Captain Hocken shortly,
snatching i