that there was no living creature under the sun, human or otherwise,
that walked upon two legs, that he could not pommel to death, with more
or less ease, by means of his fists alone. And in this conviction he was
not far wrong. Yet it must not be supposed that Jo Bumpus was a boastful
man or a bully. Far from it. He was so thoroughly persuaded of his
invincibility that he felt there was no occasion to prove it. He
therefore followed the natural bent of his inclinations, which led him
at all times to exhibit a mild, amiable, and gentle aspect,--except, of
course, when he was roused. As occasion for being roused was not wanting
in the South Seas in those days, Jo's amiability was frequently put to
the test. He sojourned, while there, in a condition of alternate calm
and storm; but riotous joviality ran, like a rich vein, through all his
checkered life, and lit up its most somber phases like gleams of light
on an April day.

"You entered my service with your own consent," replied the captain to
Jo's last remark, "and you may leave it, with the same consent, whenever
you choose; but you will please to remember that I did not engage you to
serve on board the schooner. Back there you do not go either with or
without your consent, my fine fellow, and if you are bent on going to
sea on your own account.--you've got a pair of good arms and legs,--you
can swim! Besides," continued the captain, dropping the tone of sarcasm
in which this was said, and assuming a more careless and good-natured
air, "you were singing something not long since, if I mistake not, about
'farewell to the rolling sea,' which leads me to think you will not
object to a short cruise on shore for a change, especially on such a
beautiful island as this is."

"I'm your man, capting," cried the impulsive seaman, at the same time
giving his oar a pull that well-nigh spun the boat round. "And, to say