ith a
light breeze from the north and a clear sky. Captain Bottom was there on
the quarter-deck, directing affairs, and in a talkative mood.

"She's a good ship, sir, this old Pacific is, Mr. Higgins;" said he,
again addressing that officer. "Never knew her get off her feet before."
He always spoke of the ship as if she were a thing of life. "Bless her
staunch old soul! Made her timbers talk, eh? Wants a man as has got
confidence in the craft what's under him. Then if she goes down, why he
feels like being a hero and keeping her company.

"But it makes me feel bad, Mr. Higgins, that we have lost our third
mate, poor fellow! He was a good sailor, and a brave young man, and had
such good friends at home, who thought so much of him." And as he said
this tears glistened in his eyes, and ran down his cheeks. "I'm sorry
for that young man, I am, so I am, Mr. Higgins," said the old sailor,
wiping the tears from his bronzed cheeks. "I do hope his soul will sail
in peace in a better world." Again he shook his head sorrowfully, and
then paused for a minute as if to regain control of his feelings. "God
forgive me," he resumed, "for making a woman of myself. Don't do it
often, Mr. Higgins."

"Shows that you have a kind heart, sir, and can shed a tear when it is
touched. I appreciate you for it. There is something manly in the tear
of a brave sailor," returned the officer, coldly, but politely. "We
shall get a good observation to-day, and if the men work hearty all the
spare spars and sails will be up by nightfall." Mr. Higgins's mind was
evidently on his duty, and not being inclined to enjoy the captain's
conversation, he took every opportunity to change the subject.

"Give us your hand, Mr. Higgins," said he, rather unannoyed than
otherwise by what that officer had said. "But look you here!" He lowered
his voice as he took the officer's hand, "There'll be no whales to kill
where that poor fellow has gone. Not a whale. I promised his poor old
father--a good old red coat killer he was, too, in the Revolution--that
this here son of his should kill the first whale. Yes, I did, Mr.
Higgins. And that's what mortifies me. He's dead, you see, poor fellow.
T'was'nt my fault that I did'nt keep my promise. There'll be no whales
to kill where he's gone, poor fellow!" Again he shook his head
feelingly, then raising his hat, wiped the sweat from his bronzed brow.

He now sent for Tite, who came upon the quarter-deck nervously, and
saluted