tes hot?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's your style. Don't be afraid of the onions. No ladies aboard."

Mark helped the steak, and the mate poured out the tea and hewed a
couple of lumps off a cottage-loaf.

"There you are," he said; "and make much of it. No steaks and new bread
at sea."

"But you've plenty of other things, sir."

"Humph, yes! We manage to live. More sugar?"

"No, sir, thanks."

"Help yourself, my lad. Rum un, aren't I?"

"You don't expect me to say what I think, do you?" said Mark smiling.

"One to you, boy," said the mate, nodding; and this time there was a
vestige of a smile on his plain face. "Here, ugly, try that."

This was the outside of a big piece of gristly steak which the mate cut
off, and held toward the dog, who approached slowly and as if in doubt,
but ended by taking it.

"Yah! What are you sniffing at? Think there was mustard on it? Big
friends, I suppose, you and him?"

"Yes, sir, we're capital friends."

"Humph! Better make friends with a good lad of your age. I hate dogs.
What are you laughing at?"

"You, sir."

"Eh? Oh! I see!" paid the mate grimly. "I do, though, all the same.
Don't you believe it?"

"No," replied Mark smiling; "and Bruff does not believe it either."

For after the mate had given the dog a couple of pieces of steak, Bruff
had stopped by him and laid the heavy head upon his knee to patiently
wait for further consignments of cargo, which, however, did not come,
for the chief officer was thoughtfully stirring his tea with his left
hand, while his right, as he said he hated dogs, was involuntarily
rubbing the rough jowl, the process being so satisfactory that Bruff
half-closed his eyes.

"Humph! This seems a better dog than some," said the mate. "No
business on board ship, though. I don't even like chickens; but we're
obliged to put up with them. I'm always glad, though, when they're
eaten. I once went a voyage with a cow on deck. They wanted the milk
for an officer's lady and her children. That cow used to make me
melancholy."

"Why, sir? Was she such a bad sailor?"

"No; she was always stretching out her neck to try and lick some green
paint off one of the boats. Thought it was grass. Cows have no brains.
Hallo! What is it, Billy?"

"Mr Morgan wants you, sir."

"What is it?"

"One on 'em, sir, right below."

"Bah!" ejaculated the mate. "Coming directly. Let him wait till I've
finished my tea."

The sailor gave Ma