e at all," retorted the man. "He's a she."

"A girl, is it!" exclaimed the hostess; "and how came you by the
precious?"

"Best rights of all," answered the man; "'cos I'm the kid's father."

"Her mother ought to be ashamed of herself letting you haul about
the poor mite under your arm, just as though she was pertatoes."

"Her mother can't help it," said the man. "She's dead, and left
me wi' this here child a month or six weeks old, and I've been
sweating along the way from Lun'non, and she yowlin' enough to
tear a fellow's nerves to pieces." This said triumphantly; then in
an apologetic tone, "What does the likes o' me know about holdin'
babies? I were brought up to seamanship, and not to nussin'. I'd
joy to see you, missus, set to manage a thirty-pounder. I warrant
you'd be as clumsy wi' a gun as I be wi' a kid."

"D'r say," responded the landlady, "and where be you a-g'win to
with this here angel? Takin' her to sea to make a mermaid of her?"

"No, I aren't," said the mariner. "Her mother's dead--in lodgin's
down by the Katherine docks, and got no relatives and no friends
there. I'm off to sea again when I've dispodged o' this here
incumbrance. I'm takin' her down to her mother's sister--that way."
He indicated the down road with his thumb.

"It's a wonder you ain't made a crook of her backbone, it is,"
said the woman. "And if you'd gone and crippled she for life, what
would you think o' that?"

"I didn't carry her like that all the road," answered the sailor.
"Part ways I slung her over my back."

"Wonder she's alive. Owdatious strong she must be. Come in, my
cherry beam. I'll give you as good as mother's milk. Three parts
water and a bit o' shuggar. Little your father thinks o' your
wants so long as he gets his ale."

"I let her suck my thumb," said the sailor, timidly.

"Much good she got out o' that," retorted the landlady. "Yes,
yes, my syrup. I'll give you something."

"If you can stop her yowling, I'll thank you."

With a contemptuous look at the father, the hostess withdrew.

Then the sailor planted his elbows on the table, drank a long
draught of beer, and said, sententiously, "It's an institootion
is wimin."

"Woman is the joy of our lives," said a lanky, dark-haired man
at the table.

"'Tain't exactly that," answered the sailor, now first observing
that there were other men in the room. "'Tis that there's things
for everything--there's the capstan for hawlin' up the anchor, and
there's