hundred a year. I would indeed."

"You want to make money. Bah! That's all you fellows think of. To sit
in the back shop all day long and to sell moldy books! We jolly sailor
boys know better than that, my lad."

There really was something nautical about the look of the man. He wore
a black-silk tie, in a sailor's running-knot, the ends loose; his
waistcoat was unbuttoned, and his coat was a kind of jacket; not to
speak of his swinging walk and careless pose. In fact, he had been a
sailor; he had made two voyages to India and back as assistant-purser,
or purser's clerk, on board a P. and O. boat, but some disagreement
with his commanding officer concerning negligence, or impudence, or
drink, or laziness--he had been charged in different situations and at
different times with all these vices, either together or
separately--caused him to lose his rating on the ship's books.
However, he brought away from his short nautical experience, and
preserved, a certain nautical swagger, which accorded well with his
appearance, and gave him a swashbuckler air, which made those who knew
him well lament that he had not graced the Elizabethan era, when he
might have become a gallant buccaneer, and so got himself shot through
the head; or that he had not flourished under the reign of good Queen
Anne, when he would probably have turned pirate and been hanged; or
that, being born in the Victorian age, he had not gone to the Far
West, where he would, at least, have had the chance of getting shot in
a gambling-saloon.

"As for me, when I get the business," he continued, "I shall look
about for some one to carry it on until I am able to sell it for what
it will fetch. Books at a penny apiece all round, I suppose"--James