aught, became _somehow nohow_, and he
walked down to the jetty with the intention of getting rid of himself,
and his wife and all his trouble by giving his soul back to his Creator,
and his body to the fishes."

"Bad philosophy," quoth the Dominie.

"I agree with you, master," replied old Tom.

"Pray what sort of a thing is philosophy?" inquired Tom.

"Philosophy," replied old Tom, "is either hanging, drowning, shooting
yourself, or, in short, getting out of the world without help."

"Nay," replied the Dominie, "that is _felo de se_."

"Well, I pronounce it quicker than you, master; but it's one and the
same thing: but to go on. While Ben was standing on the jetty, thinking
whether he should take one more quid of 'baccy afore he dived, who
should come down but Poll, with her hair all adrift, streaming and
coach-whipping astern of her, with the same intention as Ben--to commit
_philo-zoffy_. Ben, who was standing at the edge of the jetty, his eyes
fixed upon the water, as it eddied among the piles, looking as dismal as
if he had swallowed a hearse and six, with the funeral feathers hanging
out of his mouth--"

"A bold comparison," murmured the Dominie.

"Never sees her; and she was so busy with herself, that, although close
to him, she never sees he--always remembering that the night was dark.
So Poll turned her eyes up, for all the world like a dying jackdaw."

"Tell me, friend Dux," interrupted the Dominie, "doth a jackdaw die in
any peculiar way?"

"Yes," replied young Tom; "he always dies black, master."

"Then doth he die as he liveth. (_Cluck, cluck_.) Proceed, good Dux."

"And don't you break the thread of my yarn any more, master, if you wish
to hear the end of it. So Poll begins to bludder about Ben. `O Ben,
Ben,' cried she; `cruel, cruel man; for to come--for to go;--for to go--
for to come!'

"`Who's there?' shouted Ben.

"`For to come--for to go,' cried Poll.

"`Ship ahoy!' hailed Ben, again.

"`For to go--for to come,' blubbered Poll; and then she couldn't bring
out anything more for sobbing. With that, Ben, who thought he knew the
voice, walks up to her, and says, `Be that you, Poll?'

"`Be that you, Ben?' replied Poll, taking her hands from her face, and
looking at him.

"`I thought you were in bed with--with--oh! Poll!' said Ben.

"`And I thought you were in bed with--oh! Ben!' replied Poll.

"`But I wasn't, Poll?'

"`Nor more wasn't I, Ben.'

"`And what brought you he