s were nearly
always on deck, basking in the morning sunshine or taking refuge under
the awning. The Scotch merchant took snuff; the three German students,
who all wore spectacles and seemed exactly alike, leaned over the side
in a row, smoked big meerschaum pipes, looked round-faced and bibulous,
and very often uttered the word _Zo_. The stout doctor read books all
day long; and the Irish major followed he captain everywhere, to declaim
against the injustices practised in the army. "Injustices, sor, which
have kept me down to meejor when I ought to have been a gineral;" and as
he talked Mrs Major worked with Mrs Strong, and watched her daughter,
a pretty bright girl of twelve, who passed her time between her books
and watching the three German students as she tried to recollect which
was which.

"Ah, captain," said the major to him one day, as they were all gazing at
a large steamer that was passing them easily, "you won't understand me.
You're a backward man, or you'd be in command of a fast steamer instead
of a slow sailing ship."

"Sailing ships are quite dangerous enough, major, without having
hundreds of tons of coal aboard, and a large fire roaring night and day.
Fires are risky things aboard ship."

"Not if there's a properly disciplined crew on board, sor," said the
major. "Bah!"

He cocked his cap on one side, and leaned forward to watch the passing
steamer.

"I hope we should do our duty if we did have a fire, discipline or no
discipline," said the captain gruffly, and the subject dropped.

It was a trifling incident, but it set several people on board thinking.
It was, however, soon forgotten, and with the sea, as Billy Widgeon
said, as smooth as a mill-pond, and all sail set, the great East
Indiaman continued her course, the journey now being thoroughly
enjoyable.

There were plenty of little incidents occurring to keep the trip from
being monotonous. About every twenty-four hours Mr Gregory was finding
fault with David Jimpny, who seemed to be one of those unfortunates who
never succeed. From scraps of his history, which he insisted upon
retailing to Mark when he could find him alone, it seemed that his life
had been so many scenes of trouble.

"I'm a-trying hard, sir, as hard as I can, to be a sailor, but I don't
get on. My hands never seem to manage ropes, and it's no use for Mr
Gregory to bully me. I daren't go up these rope ladders; if I did I
know I should be drowned."

In spite o