shadow he might have been.
He had followed him, I believe, round and round the world, and when at
length Uncle Boz went into port, and was laid up in ordinary, Bambo, as
a matter of course, did the same.

I have said what Uncle Boz was like, and the sort of house he lived in;
but "Who was this Uncle Boz?" will be asked. Uncle Boz was not our
uncle really, nor was he really the uncle of a very considerable number
of boys and girls who called him uncle. I am not certain, indeed, that
he was anybody's uncle: at least, I am very confident that dear old Aunt
Deborah, who occasionally came to stay with him, and was his
counterpart, barring the wooden leg, had no family, seeing that she was
always addressed with the greatest respect as Miss Deborah. The real
state of the case is this. Uncle Boz was beloved by all his shipmates,
and his kind heart made him look upon all his brother officers as
brothers indeed. One of them, shot down fighting for his country, as he
lay on the deck in the agonies of death, entreated Uncle Boz, who knelt
over him, to look after his two orphan boys.

"That I will, that I will, dear brother. There's One above hears me,
and you'll soon meet Him, and know that I speak the truth."

"Boz, you have always spoken the truth," whispered the dying lieutenant.
"I trust in Him; I die happy."

The action was still raging. Another round-shot took off Uncle Boz's
leg.

"I don't mind," he observed, as the surgeon finished the job for him;
"there's the pension to come, and that'll help keep poor Graham's
children."

It's my belief that he did look after those children, as if he felt that
God was watching everything he did for them, or said to them; and the
best of fathers could not have managed them better. They both entered
the navy, and were an honour to the service. They naturally called him
uncle, and so their friends and other children of old shipmates came to
call him so, we among others; and as we were always talking of what
Uncle Boz had said and done, he became generally known by that name.
His name wasn't Boz, though. His real name was Boswell. He was no
relation, however, to Dr Johnson's famous biographer, and he was a very
different sort of person, I have an idea. I never saw him angry except
once, when some one asked him the question.

"No, sir; I have the privilege, and I take it to be a great one, of
being in no way connected with the dirty little lickspittle--there!" he
replied,