had weighed me down for the last ten days. I spoke to the poor fellow as
cheerfully as I could, as I came up, and endeavoured to touch on such
subjects as I thought might interest without troubling him.

"This is a famous windfall that has crossed Mr. Marble's track, Neb," I
said, pulling up, in order to go a short distance at an even pace with my
brother-tar. "As nice an old woman for a mother, as pretty a little girl
for a niece, and as snug a haven to moor in, at the end of the voyage, as
any old worn-out sea-dog could or ought to wish."

"Yes, sir, Masser Mile," Neb answered, as I fancied, in the manner of one
who was thinking of something different from what he said; "yes, sir, Mr.
Marble a reg'lar sea-dog."

"And as such not the less entitled to have a good old mother, a pretty
niece, and a snug home."

"No, sir; none de wuss for bin' sea-dog, all must allow. Nebberdeless,
Masser Mile, I sometime wish you and I nebber hab see salt water."

"That is almost as much as wishing we never looked down the Hudson from
the hills and banks of Clawbonny boy; the river itself being salt not far
below us. You are thinking of Chloe, and fancying, that had you stayed at
home, your chance of getting into her good graces would have been better."

"No, Masser Mile; no, _sir_. Nobody at Clawbonny t'ink, just now, of
anyt'ing but deat'."

I started in surprise. Mr. Hardinge kept everything like exaggeration and
those physical excitements which it is so much the habit of certain sects