real truth!"

Again my mother looked at Tom Lokins, and again that worthy man puffed
an immense cloud of smoke, and nodded his head more decidedly than
before. Being anxious to put to flight all her doubts at once, he said
solemnly, "Old ooman, that's a fact!"

"Robert," said my mother, "tell me something about the whales."

Just as she said this the door opened, and in came the good old
gentleman with the nose like his cane-knob, and with as kind a heart as
ever beat in a human breast. My mother had already told me that he came
to see her regularly once a week, ever since I went to sea, except in
summer, when he was away in the country, and that he had never allowed
her to want for anything.

I need scarcely say that there was a hearty meeting between us three,
and that we had much to say to each other. But in the midst of it all
my mother turned to the old gentleman and said--

"Robert was just going to tell me something about his adventures with
the whales."

"That's capital!" cried the old gentleman, rubbing his hands. "Come,
Bob, my boy, let's hear about 'em."

Being thus invited, I consented to spin them a yarn. The old gentleman
settled himself in his chair, my mother smoothed her apron, folded her
hands, and looked meekly into my face. Tom Lokins filled his pipe,
stretched out his foot to poke the fire with the toe of his shoe, and
began to smoke like a steam-engine; then I cleared my throat and began
my tale, and before I had done talking that night, I had told them all
that I have told in this little book, almost word for word.

Thus ended my first voyage to the South Seas. Many and many a trip have
I made since then, and many a wonderful sight have I seen, both in the
south and in the north. But if I were to write an account of all my
adventures, my little book would grow into a big one; I must therefore
come to a close.

The profits of this voyage were so great, that I was enabled to place my
mother in a position of comfort for the rest of her life, which, alas!
was very short. She died about six months after my return. I nursed
her to the end, and, when I laid her dear head in the grave, my heart
seemed to die within me, for I felt that I had lost one of God's most
precious gifts--an honest, gentle, pious mother.

I'm getting to be a old man now, but I am comfortable and happy, and as
I have more than enough of this world's goods, and no family to care
for, my chief occupation is to l