something you want. That's what I say.'

"'_I_ want no more pets,' said the old lady, stiffly.

"'Well, you won't be troubled with this one long,' said her son; 'it'll
go with me, and that's soon enough.'

"Any allusion to his departure always melted the old lady, as Jack well
knew. She became tearful, and begged him to leave the thrush with her.

"'You know, my dear, I've always looked to your live things as if they
were Christians; and loved them too (unless it was that monkey that I
never _could_ do with!). Leave it with me, my dear. I'd never bother
myself with a bird on board ship, if I was you.'

"'That's because you've got a handsome son of your own, old lady,'
chuckled the sailor; 'I've neither chick nor child, ma'am, remember,
and a man must have something to look to. The bird'll go with me.'

"And so it came to pass that just when the thrush was becoming
domesticated, and almost happy at the cottage, one morning the sailor
brought him fresh turf and groundsel, besides his meal-cake, and took
the cage down. And the old woman kissed the wires, and bade the bird
good-bye, and blessed her son, and prayed Heaven to bring him safe home
again; and they went their way.

"The forecastle of a steam-ship (even of a big one) is a poor exchange
for a snug cottage to any one but a sailor. To Jack, the ship was home.
_He_ had never lived in a wood, and carolled in tree-tops. He preferred
blue to green, and pine masts to pine trees; and he smoked his pipe