While Nat takes a good long sleep, I will tell my little readers
something about the boys, among whom he found himself when he
woke up.

To begin with our old friends. Franz was a tall lad, of sixteen now,
a regular German, big, blond, and bookish, also very domestic,
amiable, and musical. His uncle was fitting him for college, and
his aunt for a happy home of his own hereafter, because she
carefully fostered in him gentle manners, love of children, respect
for women, old and young, and helpful ways about the house. He
was her right-hand man on all occasions, steady, kind, and patient;
and he loved his merry aunt like a mother, for such she had tried to
be to him.

Emil was quite different, being quick-tempered, restless, and
enterprising, bent on going to sea, for the blood of the old vikings
stirred in his veins, and could not be tamed. His uncle promised
that he should go when he was sixteen, and set him to studying
navigation, gave him stories of good and famous admirals and
heroes to read, and let him lead the life of a frog in river, pond,
and brook, when lessons were done. His room looked like the
cabin of a man-of-war, for every thing was nautical, military, and
shipshape. Captain Kyd was his delight, and his favorite
amusement was to rig up like that piratical gentleman, and roar out
sanguinary sea-songs at the top of his voice. He would dance
nothing but sailors' hornpipes, rolled in his gait, and was as
nautical in conversation to his uncle would permit. The boys called
him "Commodore," and took great pride in his fleet, which
whitened the pond and suffered disasters that would have daunted