clasped firmly in her arms. He was very thin and light--much thinner
than the Mactavish babies and Jock's children.

She marched up to Mr. Peters.

"I'm putting Jimmy to bed, Mr. Peters. It's late and cold." Then she
added, "May I?"

"Plezh--plezh--my dear," he said, smiling foolishly.

"Sweet of you--dear little chap," twittered the little lady.

They passed a group of some dozen men sitting round a brown blanket
hedged with a fence of tumblers. They were watching a game of cards. The
pock-marked man looked up from the pile of cards in front of him and
grinned at Jimmy.

"You find it easier to get off than I do, son," he shouted. Jimmy kicked
out at him as they passed, and there was a roar of laughter.

"I hate him--he's like the Beast," said the child as they went down the
companion-way.

"Poor man--he can't help that. The Beast turned into a prince, didn't
he?"

"He's a nasty man. He sleeps in with us. And the man with no fingers.
Ugh, they're dreadful. They stayed awake all night and so did daddy. And
they wouldn't let me put the bottles through the porthole this morning.
They put them themselves, and I did so want to see them go smash."