r keeps no 'count with her. If I
follow my legs before she, I hope the old soul will have saved
something; for you know when a man goes to kingdom come, his pension
goes with him. However, let me only hold on another five years, and
then you'll not see her want; will you, Tom?"

"No, father; I'll sell myself to the king, and stand to be shot at, at a
shilling a day, and give the old woman half."

"Well, Tom, 'tis but natural for a man to wish to serve his country; so
here's to you, my lad, and may you never do worse! Jacob, do you think
of going on board of a man-of-war?"

"I'd like to serve my apprenticeship first, and then I don't care how
soon."

"Well, my boy, you'll meet more fair play on board of a king's ship than
you have from those on shore."

"I should hope so," replied I, bitterly.

"I hope to see you a man before I die, yet, Jacob. I shall very soon be
laid up in ordinary--my toes pain me a good deal lately!"

"Your toes!" cried Tom and I both at once.

"Yes, boys; you may think it odd, but sometimes I feel them just as
plain as if they were now on, instead of being long ago in some shark's
maw. At nights I has the cramp in them till it almost makes me halloo
out with pain. It's a hard thing, when one has lost the sarvice of his
legs, that all the feelings should remain. The doctor says as how it's
narvous. Come, Jacob, shove in your pannikin. You seem to take it more
kindly than you did."

"Yes," replied I, "I begin to like grog now." The _now_, however, might
be comprehended within the space of the last twenty-four hours. My
depressed spirits were raised with the stimulus, and for a time I got
rid of the eternal current of thought which pressed upon my brain.

"I wonder what your old gentleman, the Dominie, as you call him,
thought, after he got on shore again," said old Tom. "He seemed to be
mighty cut up. I suppose you'll give him a hail, Jacob?"

"No," replied I, "I shall not go near him, nor any one else, if I can
help it. Mr Drummond may think I wish to make it up again. I've done
with the shore. I only wish I knew what is to become of me; for you
know I am not to serve in the lighter with you."

"Suppose Tom and I look out for another craft, Jacob? I care nothing
for Mr Drummond. He said t'other day I was a drunken old swab--for
which, with my sarvice to him, he lies. A drunken fellow is one who
can't, for the soul of him, keep from liquor when he can get it, and
who