English fisherman, with dark eyes and hair, and with a sunny smile on
his weather-beaten, sunburnt face. You had only to look at the man to
feel sure that you could trust him, and that, like Nathanael, there was
no guile in him.

'I wonder if you could help me,' I said; 'I want to find a room here if
I can, but every place seems so full.'

'Yes, it is full, sir, in August; that's the main time here. Let me see,
there's Brown's, they're full, and Robinson's, and Wilson's, and
Thomson's, all full up. There's Giles', they have a room, I believe, but
they're not over clean; maybe you're particular, sir.'

'Well,' I said, 'I do like things clean; I don't mind how rough they are
if they're only clean.'

'Ah,' he said, with a twinkle in his eye; 'you wouldn't care for one pan
to do all the work of the house--to boil the dirty clothes, and the
fish, and your bit of pudding for dinner, and not overmuch cleaning of
it in between.'

'No,' I said, laughing; 'I should not like that, certainly.'

'Might give the pudding a flavour of stockings, and a sauce of fish
oil,' he answered. 'Well, you're right, sir; I shouldn't like it myself.
Cleanliness is next to godliness, that's my idea. Well, then, that being
as it is, I wouldn't go to Giles', not if them is your sentiments with
regard to pans, sir.'

'Then I suppose there's nothing for it but to trudge up to the hotel at
the top of the hill,' I said, with something of a groan.

'Well, sir,' he said, hesitating a little; 'me and my missus, we have a
room as we lets sometimes, but it's a poor place, sir, homely like, as
ye may say. Maybe you wouldn't put up with it.'

'Would you let me see it?' I asked.

'With pleasure, sir; it's rough, but it's clean. We could promise you a
clean pan, sir. My missus she's a good one for cleaning; she's not one
of them slatternly, good-for-nothing lasses. There's heaps of them here,
sir, idling away their time. She's a good girl is my Polly. Why, if that
isn't little John a-clambering up the steps to his daddy!'

He jumped up as he said this, and ran quickly down the steep flight of
steps which led down from the height on which the seat was placed, and
soon returned with a little lad about two years old in his arms.

The child was as fair as his father was dark. He was a pretty boy with
light hair and blue eyes, and was tidily dressed in a bright red cap and
clean white-pinafore.

'Tea's ready, daddy,' said the boy; 'come home with little