oth and
the lining of the pea-jacket to the very bottom of the garment, where it
remained until the aforesaid seaman had reached England, and had gone
down to see his family, who lived in the cottage in Sidmouth. And there
he had hung up his pea-jacket on a nail, in a little room next to the
kitchen, and there his mother had found it, and sewed on two buttons, and
sewed up the rips in the bottoms of two pockets. Shortly after this, the
sailor, happening to pass a post-office box, remembered the letter he had
brought to England. He went to his pea-jacket and searched it, but could
find no letter. He must have lost it--he hoped after he had reached
England, and no doubt whoever found it would put a tuppence ha'penny
stamp on it and stick it into a box. Anyway, he had done all he could.

One pleasant spring evening, the negro Mok sat behind a table in the
well-known beer-shop called the "Black Cat." He had before him a
half-emptied beer-glass, and in front of him was a pile of three small
white dishes. These signified that Mok had had three glasses of beer, and
when he should finish the one in his hand, and should order another, the
waiter would bring with it another little white plate, which he would put
on the table, on the pile already there, and which would signify that the
African gentleman must pay for four glasses of beer.

Mok was enjoying himself very much. It was not often that he had such an
opportunity to sample the delights of Paris. His young master, Ralph, had
given him strict orders never to go out at night, or in his leisure
hours, unless accompanied by Cheditafa. The latter was an extremely
important and sedate personage. The combined dignity of a butler and a
clergyman were more than ever evident in his person, and he was a painful
drawback to the more volatile Mok. Mok had very fine clothes, which it
rejoiced him to display. He had a fine appetite for everything fit to eat
and drink. He had money in his pockets, and it delighted him to see
people and to see things, although he might not know who they were or
what they were. He knew nothing of French, and his power of expressing
himself in English had not progressed very far. But on this evening, in
the jolly precincts of the Black Cat, he did not care whether the people
used language or not. He did not care what they did, so that he could
sit there and enjoy himself. When he wanted more beer, the waiter
understood him, and that was enough.

The jet-bl