ut pencil and note-book to take down
his name and address.

"You are a most valuable friend at this crisis in our affairs," said
Lewis, "I'll make mother write to him immediately."

"But have a care," said the Captain, "that you never mention who it was
that recommended him. I'm not sure that he would regard it as a
compliment. You must promise me that."

"I promise," said Lewis, "and whatever I promise mother will fulfil, so
make your mind easy on that head. Now, mother, I shouldn't wonder if
Captain Wopper could provide you with that other little inexpensive
luxury you mentioned this morning. D'you think you could recommend a
page?"

"What's a page, lad?"

"What! have you never heard of a page--a page in buttons?" asked Lewis
in surprise.

"Never," replied the Captain, shaking his head.

"Why, a page is a small boy, usually clad in blue tights, to make him
look as like a spider as possible, with three rows of brass buttons up
the front of his jacket--two of the rows being merely ornamental, and
going over his shoulders. He usually wears a man's hat for the sake of
congruity, and is invariably as full of mischief as an egg is of meat.
Can you find such an article?"

"Ha!" exclaimed the Captain. "What is he used for?"

"Chiefly for ornament, doing messages, being in the way when not wanted,
and out of the way when required."

"Yes," said the Captain, meditatively, "I've got my eye--"

"Your weather eye?" asked Lewis.

"Yes, my _weather_ eye, on a lad who'll fit you."

"To a tee?" inquired Emma, archly.

"To a tee, miss," assented the Captain, with a bland smile.

Lewis again pulled out his note-book to enter the name and address, but
the Captain assured him that he would manage this case himself; and it
was finally settled--for Lewis carried everything his own way, as a
matter of course--that Dr George Lawrence was to be written to next
day, and Captain Wopper was to provide a page.

"And you'll have to get him and yourself ready as fast as possible,"
said the youth in conclusion, "for we shall set off as soon as my
mother's trunks are packed."

Next morning, while Captain Wopper was seated conversing with his old
landlady at the breakfast-table--the morning meal having been just
concluded--he heard the voice of Gillie White in the court. Going to
the end of the passage, he ordered that imp to "come aloft."

Gillie appeared in a few seconds, nodded patronisingly to old Mrs Roby,
hoped she