of the anchor a hearty slap with his hand after the housing was
completed - "there, lass, take a good nap now, for we shan't ask
you to kiss the mud again for many a long day to come!"

And so it was. That anchor did not "kiss the mud" for many long
days afterwards; and when at last it did, it was for the last time!

There were a number of boys in the ship, but two of them were my
special favourites. Jack Martin was a tall, strapping, broad-
shouldered youth of eighteen, with a handsome, good-humoured, firm
face. He had had a good education, was clever and hearty and lion-
like in his actions, but mild and quiet in disposition. Jack was a
general favourite, and had a peculiar fondness for me. My other
companion was Peterkin Gay. He was little, quick, funny, decidedly
mischievous, and about fourteen years old. But Peterkin's mischief
was almost always harmless, else he could not have been so much
beloved as he was.

"Hallo! youngster," cried Jack Martin, giving me a slap on the
shoulder, the day I joined the ship, "come below and I'll show you
your berth. You and I are to be mess-mates, and I think we shall
be good friends, for I like the look o' you."

Jack was right. He and I and Peterkin afterwards became the best
and stanchest friends that ever tossed together on the stormy
waves.

I shall say little about the first part of our voyage. We had the
usual amount of rough weather and calm; also we saw many strange
fish rolling in the sea, and I was greatly delighted one day by