and a book in his hand. He is in a ship, telling his stories now to
that boy sitting on a coil of rope. See, the boy is looking right at
the old man, hearing all he says. I wonder what Jack is talking about
now. He must be telling one of his best stories, I guess; for the boy
lifts his head up, as much as to say, "Dear me! who ever heard of
such a thing!"

Jack is a good man. He is not like a great many sailors that I have
seen. He does not use bad words. He never drinks rum, or any thing of
the kind. Sailors are apt to swear; but Jack Mason never swears. He
is a Christian: he loves to pray and read his Bible. The book which he
holds in his hand, as he is talking to that boy, is a Bible. He often
has a Bible in his jacket pocket, when he is on board of his ship; and
once in a while he stops telling stories about what he has seen, and
reads some of the stories in that good book.

When I was a little boy, Jack fell from the high mast of the ship, and
hurt himself so badly that he had to stay at home a long time after
that. Poor fellow! he did not like to be shut up in the house. It was
hard work for him. But he could not go out, until his hip got well.
When he was able to sit up in a chair, I used to go and see him, and
hear him tell his stories. I did not go every day, because my mother
thought I had better not go every day. But I went as often as she
would let me go, and staid as long as she would let me stay.

Jack was always glad to see me, and glad to tell me stories. I was
always glad to hear his stories. Some sailors, who have spent a great
deal of time on board of a ship, and have seen a great many places,
are not good men. They do not always tell the truth. So, when they
tell stories about what they saw where they went, we do not know