"'Oh, come,' says I, 'this won't do. Here you've been and run down
a smack, drowned father and the other three hands, and your lookout
fast asleep, and you does nothing.'

"'I suppose,' said the captain, sarcastic, 'you want me to jump
over to look for 'em. You want me to heave the ship to in this gale
and to invite yer father perlitely to come on board. P'raps you'd
like a grapnel put out to see if I couldn't hook the smack and bring
her up again. Perhaps you'd like to be chucked overboard yourself.
Nobody asked you to come on board, nobody wanted your company. I
reckon the wisest thing you can do is to go for'ard and turn in.'
There didn't seem much for me to do else, so I went forward to the
forecastle. There most of the hands were asleep, but two or three
were sitting up yarning. I told 'em my story and what this captain
had said.

"'He's a queer hand is the skipper,' one of 'em said, 'and hasn't
got a soft place about him. Well, my lad, I'm sorry for what's
happened, but talking won't do it any good. You've got a long voyage
before you, and you'd best turn in and make yourself comfortable
for it.'

"'I ain't going a long voyage,' says I, beginning to wipe my eye,
'I wants to be put ashore at the first port.'

"'Well, my lad, I daresay the skipper will do that, but as we're
bound for the coast of Chili from Hamburg, and ain't likely to be
there for about five months, you've got, as I said, a long voyage
before you. If the weather had been fine the skipper might have
spoken some ship in the Channel, and put you on board, but before