"But, father, when we have lighted the fire, what have we to cook? we
have no tea or coffee."

"No, I do not think we have," replied Mr. Seagrave.

"But we have potatoes, father."

"Yes, William, but don't you think it would be better if we made our
breakfast off the cold beef and pork and ship's biscuit for once, and
not use the potatoes? we may want them all to plant, you know. But why
should we not go on board of the ship ourselves? you can pull an oar
pretty well, and we must all learn to work now, and not leave
everything for poor old Ready to do. Come, William."

Mr. Seagrave then went down to the cove; the little boat was lying on
the beach, just lifted by the rippling waves; they pushed her off, and
got into her. "I know where the steward kept the tea and coffee,
father," said William, as they pulled on board; "mamma would like some
for breakfast, I'm sure, and I'll milk the goats for baby."

Although they were neither of them very handy at the oar, they were
soon alongside of the ship; and, having made the boat fast, they
climbed on board.

William first went down to the cabin for the tea and coffee, and then
left his father to collect other things while he went to milk the
goats, which he did in a tin pan. He then poured the milk into a
bottle, which he had washed out, that it might not be spilt, and went
back to his father.