talk too much, Master Fred, wotever ye do. My maxim is--and it has
served me through life, uncommon--'Keep your weather-eye open and your
tongue housed 'xcept when you've got occasion to use it.' If that
fellow'd use his eyes more and his tongue less, he'd see your father
comin' down the road there, right before the wind, with his old sister
in tow."

"How I wish he would have let me go with him!" muttered Fred to himself
sorrowfully.

"No chance now, I'm afeard," remarked his companion. "The gov'nor's as
stiff as a nor'-wester. Nothin' in the world can turn him once he's made
up his mind but a regular sou'-easter. Now, if you had been _my_ son,
and yonder tight craft _my_ ship, I would have said, 'Come at once.' But
your father knows best, lad; and you're a wise son to obey orders
cheerfully, without question. That's another o' my maxims, 'Obey orders,
an' ax no questions.'"

Frederick Ellice, senior, who now approached, whispering words of
consolation into the ear of his weeping sister, might, perhaps, have
just numbered fifty years. He was a fine, big, bold, hearty Englishman,
with a bald head, grizzled locks, a loud but not harsh voice, a rather
quick temper, and a kind, earnest, enthusiastic heart. Like Buzzby, he
had spent nearly all his life at sea, and had become so thoroughly
accustomed to walking on an unstable foundation that he felt quite
uncomfortable on solid ground, and never remained more than a few months
at a time on shore. He was a man of good education and gentlemanly
manners, and had worked his way up in the merchant service step by step
until he obtained the command of a West India trader.