sunburnt, they catch
fire like tinder at a fresh complexion like thine, with a head of hair
inclining to be red."

"I would I might trade thither," said the mercer, chuckling.

"Why, and so thou mayest," said Michael--"that is, if thou art the same
brisk boy who was partner with me at robbing the Abbot's orchard. 'Tis
but a little touch of alchemy to decoct thy house and land into ready
money, and that ready money into a tall ship, with sails, anchors,
cordage, and all things conforming; then clap thy warehouse of goods
under hatches, put fifty good fellows on deck, with myself to command
them, and so hoist topsails, and hey for the New World!"

"Thou hast taught him a secret, kinsman," said Giles Gosling, "to
decoct, an that be the word, his pound into a penny and his webs into a
thread.--Take a fool's advice, neighbour Goldthred. Tempt not the sea,
for she is a devourer. Let cards and cockatrices do their worst, thy
father's bales may bide a banging for a year or two ere thou comest to
the Spital; but the sea hath a bottomless appetite,--she would swallow
the wealth of Lombard Street in a morning, as easily as I would a
poached egg and a cup of clary. And for my kinsman's Eldorado, never
trust me if I do not believe he has found it in the pouches of some such
gulls as thyself.--But take no snuff in the nose about it; fall to and
welcome, for here comes the supper, and I heartily bestow it on all
that will take share, in honour of my hopeful nephew's return, always
trusting that he has come home another man.--In faith, kinsman, thou art
as like my poor sister as ever was son to mother."

"Not quite so like old Benedict Lambourne, her husband, though," said
the mercer, nodding and winking. "Dost thou remember, Mike, what thou
saidst when the schoolmaster's ferule was over thee for striking up thy
father's crutches?--it is a wise child, saidst thou, that knows its own
father. Dr. Bircham laughed till he cried again, and his crying saved
yours."

"Well, he made it up to me many a day after," said Lambourne; "and how
is the worthy pedagogue?"

"Dead," said Giles Gosling, "this many a day since."

"That he is," said the clerk of the parish; "I sat by his bed the
whilst. He passed away in a blessed frame. 'MORIOR--MORTUUS SUM VEL
FUI--MORI'--these were his latest words; and he just added, 'my last
verb is conjugated."

"Well, peace be with him," said Mike, "he owes me nothing."

"No, truly," replied Goldthred; "an