said it was certainly of use too, though they did not know what. I
remember it very well, because I was _so_ surprised to hear that Aunt
Martha and Aunt Jane did not know _everything_."

"No doubt Aunt Martha and Aunt Jane were right," said Glynn, with a
smile. "I confess, however, that crocodiles seem to me to be of no
other use than to kill and eat up everything that comes within the reach
of their terrible jaws. But, indeed, now I think of it, the very same
may be said of man, for _he_ kills and eats up at least everything that
he _wants_ to put into his jaws."

"So he does," said Ailie; "isn't it funny?"

"Isn't what funny?" asked Glynn.

"That we should be no better than crocodiles--at least, I mean about
eating."

"You forget, Ailie, we cook our food."

"Oh! so we do. I did not remember to think of that. That's a great
difference, indeed."

Leaving Glynn and his little charge to philosophise on the resemblance
between men and crocodiles, we shall now return to Tim Rokens and Phil
Briant, whom we left in the trader's cottage.

The irate Irishman had been calmed down by reason and expostulation, and
had again been roused to great indignation several times since we left
him, by the account of things connected with the slave-trade, given him
by the trader, who, although he had no interest in it himself, did not
feel very much aggrieved by the sufferings he witnessed around him.

"You don't mane to tell me, now, that _whalers_ comes in here for
slaves, do ye?" said Briant, placing his two fists on his two knees, and
thrusting his head towards the trader, who admitted that he meant to say
that; and that he meant, moreover, to add, that the thing was by no
means of rare occurrence--that whaling ships occasionally ran into that
very port on their way south, shipped a cargo of negroes, sold them at
the nearest slave-buying port they could make on the American coast, and
then proceeded on their voyage, no one being a whit the wiser.

"You don't mean it?" remarked Tim Rokens, crossing his legs and devoting
himself to his pipe, with the air of a man who mourned the depravity of
his species, but did not feel called upon to disturb his equanimity very
much because of it.

Phil Briant clenched his teeth, and glared.

"Indeed I do mean it," reiterated the trader. "Would you believe it,
there was one whaler put in here, and what does he do but go and invite
a lot o' free blacks aboard to have a blow-out; and no