ss for her don't deserve to have her."

"That's true," said a young fisherman, named Guy, with a nod of
approval--"though there may be two opinions as to which is the sweetest
lass in all the town!"

"I tell 'ee what, Jo," remarked a stern and rather cross-grained
bachelor, named Grime, "you may save yourself the trouble of givin'
chase to that little craft, for although old Bolter ain't much to boast
of--bein' nothin' more than the skipper of a small coastin' craft--he
thinks hisself far too big a man to give his darter to a fisherman."

"Does he?" exclaimed Grain, with vehemence, and then suddenly checked
himself.

"Ay, that does he," returned Grime, with something of a sneer in his
tone.

It chanced that Jo Grain had been to the public-house that day, and the
sneer, which at other times would have been passed over with
indifference, stung him--coupled as it was with a slur on his lowly
position. He looked fiercely at Grime, and said, in a loud, angry tone:
"It's a matter of moonshine to me what Bolter thinks of himself. If the
girl's willin' to have me I'll wed her in spite o' the old grampus."

Now, unhappily for Jo Grain, the "old grampus" chanced at that very time
to be sunning himself, and enjoying his pipe on the other side of the
pier-wall, and heard distinctly what Jo said. Moreover, there was some
truth in what Grime had said about the old skipper looking down on the
young fisherman's position: so that, although he could not deny that Jo
was a first-rate man, and knew that Mary was fond of him, he had
hitherto felt a strong disinclination to allow his darling and only
child to wed, as he considered it beneath her. When, therefore, the
speech above quoted broke harshly on his ears, the matter became finally
settled in his mind. He dropped his pipe, set his heel on it, and
ground it to powder. He also ground his teeth, and, turning round with
a snort, worthy of the creature to which he had been compared, sailed
wildly homewards.

Next day Jo Grain chanced to meet him in the street, and held out his
hand as usual; but the captain, thrusting both hands deep into his
trousers pockets, looked the young man firmly in the face--

"No, Grain," he said sternly. "I've done with _you_!"

"Why so, Captain Bolter?" asked Jo, in great surprise.

"Because," hissed the Captain, as his wrath rose, "an _old grampus_
don't choose to have anything more to do with a _young puppy_!"

Instantly his reckless speec