lm of his
hand glistening in the bright sunshine, one being of the size of a large
pea, and the others of good-sized shot.

"Beauties, aren't they, sir?"

"Lovely," cried Carey, who, recovering as he was from a painful illness,
was full of appreciation of everything he saw. "Yes, they are lovely;
and only to think of it, if we had not found them they would have lain
there and perhaps never have been seen."

"Like enough, my lad. There must be millions and millions about here."

"Yes," said the boy, with a sigh. "Here, put them in your pocket, Bob,"
and he held them to his companion as if wanting to get them out of
sight.

"What for? Aren't you got one?"

"Yes, but you found them; they're yours."

"Nay, we found 'em; and besides, I'm only a common sailor, and like your
servant. You keep 'em."

"It wouldn't be fair, Bob," said Carey. "You have the best right to
them."

"Tchah! They're no good to me. I should on'y sell 'em to somebody if
ever we got away, for the price of a pound o' 'bacco as would go away
all in smoke. Once upon a time I should ha' took 'em home to my old
mother. Now I aren't got one, and you have. So you have 'em made into
a ring some day, with the big un in the middle and the little uns one on
each side."

"Shall I, Bob?"

"O' course. There. Now I shall just sink that bucket in the clear,
cool water so as the soup stuff keeps good. There we are, and those
bits o' clean coral to keep 'em down. Now I washes my hands in that
little bit of a rock basin and they aren't a bit messy; dries 'em in the
hot sand, and now what do you say to trying for a bit o' fish?"

"Capital," cried Carey, excitedly.

"On'y I tell you what; we'll tie one end of the line to the raft, so
that you can let go if we get hold of a big un. I'm not going to have
you hauling and hurting your sore place."

"That will be all right."

"No, it won't, unless you promise you'll let go if it's a big un."

"I promise," said Carey, "for I don't believe we shall catch any."

"Well, there's something in that," said the old sailor, "for the number
o' times a man goes fishing and don't ketch nothing's a thing to think
on."

Bostock talked a great deal, but he was not like a gardener, who somehow
can never answer a question without stopping short; say, if he is
digging, driving the spade into the ground, resting one foot upon it,
and resting his fist upon the handle. Bob Bostock's hands were always
busy, and w