any one?"

Bill smiled slightly as he replied, "Why, I s'pose it's because I
haint got nothin' to say!"

"That's strange," said I, musingly; "you look like a man that could
think, and such men can usually speak."

"So they can, youngster," rejoined Bill, somewhat sternly; "and I
could speak too if I had a mind to, but what's the use o' speakin'
here! The men only open their mouths to curse and swear, an' they
seem to find it entertaining; but I don't, so I hold my tongue."

"Well, Bill, that's true, and I would rather not hear you speak at
all than hear you speak like the other men; but I don't swear,
Bill, so you might talk to me sometimes, I think. Besides, I'm
weary of spending day after day in this way, without a single soul
to say a pleasant word to. I've been used to friendly
conversation, Bill, and I really would take it kind if you would
talk with me a little now and then."

Bill looked at me in surprise, and I thought I observed a sad
expression pass across his sun-burnt face.

"An' where have you been used to friendly conversation," said Bill,
looking down again into the sea; "not on that Coral Island, I take
it?"

"Yes, indeed," said I energetically; "I have spent many of the
happiest months in my life on that Coral Island;" and without