ppeared to
have found a lodgment in his soul, for he burst upon the astonished
passengers with a squall which lasted longer than the gale, and was
ultimately pronounced the worst that had visited the ship since she left
England. Born in a storm, the infant was baptised in a stiff breeze by
a Wesleyan minister, on and after which occasion he was understood to be
Jabez Brook; but one of the sailors happening to call him Junkie on the
second day of his existence, his nurse, Mrs Scholtz, leaped at the
endearing name like a hungry trout at a gay fly, and "Junkie" he
remained during the whole term of childhood.

Junkie's main characteristic was strength of lungs, and his chief
delight to make that fact known. Six passengers changed their berths
for the worse in order to avoid him. One who could not change became
nearly deranged towards the end of the voyage, and one, who was sea-sick
all the way out, seriously thought of suicide, but incapacity for any
physical effort whatever happily saved him. In short, Junkie was the
innocent cause of many dreadful thoughts and much improper language on
the unstable scene of his nativity.

Besides these three, there was in the tent a pretty, dark-eyed,
refined-looking girl of about twelve. She was Gertrude Brook, sister
and idolater of Junkie. Her father, Edwin Brook, and her mother, dwelt
in a tent close by. Brook was a gentleman of small means, but Mrs
Brook was a very rich lady--rich in the possession of a happy temper, a
loving disposition, a pretty face and figure, and a religious soul.
Thus Edwin Brook, though poor, may be described as a man of
inexhaustible wealth.

Gertrude had come into Dally's tent to fetch Junkie to her father when
Sandy Black and his friends entered, but Junkie had just touched the hot
teapot, with the contents of which Mrs Scholtz was regaling herself and
husband, and was not in an amiable humour. His outcries were deafening.

"Now _do_ hold its dear little tongue, and go to its popsy," said Mrs
Scholtz tenderly. (Mrs Scholtz was an Englishwoman.)

We need not say that Junkie declined obedience, neither would he listen
to the silvery blandishments of Gertie.

"Zee chile vas born shrieking, ant he vill die shrieking," growled
Scholtz, who disliked Junkie.

The entrance of the strangers, however, unexpectedly stopped the
shrieking, and before Junkie could recover his previous train of thought
Gertie bore him off in triumph, leaving the hospitabl