never before had he been clothed in a suit half so good. It was the
regular uniform of the crew of the ship.
"Hold on a moment, my lad," said Muggs, the steward, as he produced a
pair of barber's shears. "Your barber did not do justice to your
figure-head, the last time he cut your hair."
"I cut it myself," replied Ole.
"I should think you did, and with a bush scythe."
"I only hacked off a little, to keep it out of my eyes. Captain Olaf
always used to cut it."
"Who's Captain Olaf?" asked Muggs.
Ole was silent, but permitted the steward to remove at will the long,
snarly white locks, which covered his head. The operator had been a
barber once, and received extra pay for his services on board the ship
in this capacity. He did his work in an artistic manner, parting
and combing the waif's hair as though he were dressing him for a
fashionable party. He put a sailor's knot in the black handkerchief
under the boy's collar, and then placed the blue cap on his head, a
little on one side, so that he looked as jaunty as a dandy
man-of-war's-man.
"Now put on this jacket, my lad, and you will be all right," continued
the steward, as he gazed with pride and pleasure upon the work of his
hands.
"More clothes!" exclaimed Ole. "I shall be baked. I sweat now with
what I have on."
"It's hot in here; you will be cool enough when you go on deck. Here's
a pea-jacket for you, besides the other."
"But that's for winter. I never had so much clothes on before in my
life."
"You needn't put the pea-jacket on, if you don't want it. Now you look
like a decent man, and you can go on deck and show yourself."
"Thank you, sir."
"But you must wash yourself clean every morning."
"Do it every day!" exclaimed Ole, opening his eyes with astonishment.
"Why, yes, you heathen," laughed Muggs. "A man isn't fit to live who
don't keep himself clean. Why, you could have planted potatoes
anywhere on your hide, before you went into that tub."
"I haven't been washed before since last summer," added Ole.
"You ought to be hung for it."
"You spend half your time washing yourselves--don't you?"
"We spend time enough at it to keep clean. No wonder you Norwegians
have the leprosy, and the flesh rots off the bones!"
"But I always go into the water every summer," pleaded Ole.
"And don't wash yourself at any other time?"
"I always wash myself once a year, and sometimes more, when I get a
good chance."
"Don't you wash your
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