, was the busiest and most active man on board. Not
that his own special duties gave him much to do, for, until the vessel
should reach port, these were rather light; but our hero--as Stride
expressed it--"must always be doing." If he had not work to do he made
it--chiefly in the way of assisting other people. Indeed there was
scarcely a man or boy on board who did not have the burden of his toil,
whatever it was, lightened in consequence of young Brooke's tendency to
put his powerful shoulder voluntarily to the wheel. He took the daily
observations with the captain, and worked out the ship's course during
the previous twenty-four hours. He handled the adze and saw with the
carpenter, learned to knot and splice, and to sew canvas with the
bo's'n's mate, commented learnedly and interestingly on the preparation
of food with the cook, and spun yarns with the men on the forecastle, or
listened to the long-winded stories of the captain and officers in the
cabin. He was a splendid listener, being much more anxious to ascertain
exactly the opinions of his friends and mates than to advance his own.
Of course it followed that Charlie was a favourite.

With his insatiable desire to acquire information of every kind, he had
naturally, when at home, learned a little rough-and-tumble surgery, with
a slight smattering of medicine. It was not much, but it proved to be
useful as far as it went, and his "little knowledge" was not
"dangerous," because he modestly refused to go a single step beyond it
in the way of practice, unless, indeed, he was urgently pressed to do so
by his patients. In virtue of his attainments, real and supposed, he
came to be recognised as the doctor of the ship, for the _Walrus_
carried no medical man.

"Look here, Brooke," said the only passenger on board--a youth of
somewhat delicate constitution, who was making the voyage for the sake
of his health,--"I've got horrible toothache. D'you think you can do
anything for me?"

"Let's have a look at it," said Charlie, with kindly interest, though he
felt half inclined to smile at the intensely lugubrious expression of
the youth's face.

"Why, Raywood, that is indeed a bad tooth; nothing that I know of will
improve it. There's a cavern in it big and black enough to call to
remembrance the Black Hole of Calcutta! A red-hot wire might destroy
the nerve, but I never saw one used, and should not like to try it."

"Horrible!" exclaimed Raywood. "I've been