y," continued she, as she walked into the
back kitchen.

All this time, my father had been at the door looking on, which she had
not perceived. My father then came in. "What's your name, my lad?"
said he.

"Tommy Saunders," replied I, rubbing myself; for the frying-pan was very
hot, and my trousers very much out of repair.

"And who is that little girl?" said he.

"That's my sister Virginia;--but," continued I, "who are you? Do you
want my mother?"

"Not very particularly just now," said my father, taking up my sister
and kissing her, and then patting me on the head.

"Do you want any beer or 'baccy?" said I. "I'll run and get you some,
if you give me the money, and bring back your change all right."

"Well, so you shall, Jack, my boy," replied he; and he gave me a
shilling. I soon returned with the pipes, tobacco, and beer, and
offered him the change, which he told me to keep, to buy apples with it.
Virginia was on the knee of my father, who was coaxing and caressing
her, and my mother had not yet returned from the back kitchen. I felt
naturally quite friendly towards a man who had given me more money than
I ever possessed in my life; and I took my stool and sat beside him;
while, with my sister on his knee, and his porter before him, my father
smoked his pipe.

"Does your mother often beat you, Jack?" said my father, taking the pipe
out of his mouth.

"Yes, when I does wrong," replied I.

"Oh! only when you do wrong--eh?"

"Well, she says I do wrong; so I suppose I do."

"You're a good boy," replied my father. "Does she ever beat you, dear?"
said he to Virginia.

"Oh, no!" interrupted I; "she never beats sister, she loves her too
much; but she don't love me."

My father puffed away, and said no more.

I must inform the reader that my father's person was very much altered
from what I have described it to have been at the commencement of this
narrative. He was now a boatswain's mate, and wore a silver whistle
hung round, his neck by a lanyard, and with which little Virginia was
then playing. He had grown more burly in appearance, spreading, as
sailors usually do, when they arrive to about the age of forty; and
moreover, he had a dreadful scar from a cutlass wound, received in
boarding, which had divided the whole left side of his face, from the
eyebrow to the chin. This gave him a very fierce expression; still he
was a fine looking man, and his pig-tail had grown to a surprising
length and