ed his life as a miserable bachelor. Peter Langley, when not
at sea with Harry in his yacht, lived in a snug cottage at Southsea,
and had never reason to the end of his life to regret the time when he
sighted the floating box from the tops of the _Alert_.

SURLY JOE.

"You wonder why I am called Surly Joe, sir? No, as you say, I hope I
don't deserve the title now; but I did once, and a name like that
sticks to a man for life. Well, sir, the fish are not biting at
present, and I don't mind if I tell you how I got it."

The speaker was a boatman, a man some fifty years old, broad and
weather-beaten; he had but one arm. I had been spending a month's
well-earned holiday at Scarborough, and had been making the most of
it, sailing or fishing every day. Upon my first arrival I had gone out
with the one-armed boatman, and as he was a cheery companion, and his
boat, the _Grateful Mary_, was the best and fastest on the strand, I
had stuck to him throughout. The boatmen at our watering-places soon
learn when a visitor fixes upon a particular boat, and cease to
importune him with offers of a sail; consequently it became an
understood thing after a day or two that I was private property, and
as soon as I was seen making my way across the wet, soppy sand, which
is the one drawback to the pleasure of Scarborough, a shout would at
once be raised for Surly Joe. The name seemed a singularly
inappropriate one; but it was not until the very day before I was
returning to town that I made any remark on the subject. By this time
we had become great allies; for what with a bathe in the morning
early, a sail before lunch, and a fishing expedition afterwards, I had
almost lived on board the _Grateful Mary_. The day had been too clear
and bright for fishing; the curly-headed, barefooted boy who assisted
Joe had grown tired of watching us catch nothing, and had fallen
asleep in the bow of the boat; and the motion, as the boat rose and
fell gently on the swell, was so eminently provocative of sleep that I
had nodded once or twice as I sat with my eyes fixed on my line. Then
the happy idea had occurred to me to remark that I wondered why my
companion was called by a nickname which seemed so singularly
inappropriate. Joe's offer to tell me how he obtained it woke me at
once. I refilled my pipe,--an invariable custom, I observe, with
smokers when they are sitting down to listen to a story,--passed my
pouch to Joe, who followed my example; a