Blown to Bits | Page 8

old mother Morris?"
"Quite well," they shouted. "Fatterer than ever," added an urchin, who
in England would have been styled cheeky.
"Yes," lisped a very little girl; "one of 'e doors in 'e house too small for
she."
"Why, Gerchin, you've learned to speak English like the rest," said the
captain.

"Yes, father make every one learn."
"Well, now," continued the captain, "what about Black Sam?"
"Gone to Batavia," chorused the children.
"And--and--what's-'is-name?--the man wi' the nose--"
A burst of laughter and, "We's all got noses here!" was the reply.
"Yes, but you know who I mean--the short man wi' the--"
"Oh! with the turned up nose. I know," cried the cheeky boy; "you
means Johnson? He goed away nobody know whar'."
"And little Nelly Drew, what of her?"
A sudden silence fell on the group, and solemn eyes were turned on
sister Kathy, who was evidently expected to answer.
"Not dead?" said the captain earnestly.
"No, but very very ill," replied the girl.
"Dear Nelly have never git over the loss of her brother, who--"
At this point they were interrupted by another group of the captain's
little admirers, who, having heard of his arrival, ran forward to give
him a noisy welcome. Before stories could be commenced, however,
the visitors were summoned to Mr. Ross's house to dinner, and then the
captain had got into such an eager talk with the king that evening was
upon them before they knew where they were, as Nigel expressed it,
and the stories had to be postponed until the following day.
Of course beds were offered, and accepted by Captain Roy and Nigel.
Just before retiring to them, father and son went out to have a stroll on
the margin of the lagoon.
"Ain't it a nice place, Nigel?" asked the former, whose kindly spirit had

been stirred up to quite a jovial pitch by the gushing welcome he had
received alike from old and young.
"It's charming, father. Quite different from what you had led me to
expect."
"My boy," returned the captain, with that solemn deliberation which he
was wont to assume when about to deliver a palpable truism. "W'en
you've come to live as long as me you'll find that everything turns out
different from what people have bin led to expect. Leastways that's my
experience."
"Well, in the meantime, till I have come to your time of life, I'll take
your word for that, and I do hope you intend to stay a long time here."
"No, my son, I don't. Why do ye ask?"
"Because I like the place and the people so much that I would like to
study it and them, and to sketch the scenery."
"Business before pleasure, my lad," said the captain with a grave shake
of the head. "You know we've bin blown out of our course, and have no
business here at all. I'll only wait till the carpenter completes his repairs,
and then be off for Batavia. Duty first; everything else afterwards."
"But you being owner as well as commander, there is no one to insist
on duty being done," objected Nigel.
"Pardon me," returned the captain, "there is a certain owner named
Captain David Roy, a very stern disciplinarian, who insists on the
commander o' this here brig performin' his duty to the letter. You may
depend upon it that if a man ain't true to himself he's not likely to be
true to any one else. But it's likely that we may be here for a couple of
days, so I release you from duty that you may make the most o' your
time and enjoy yourself. By the way, it will save you wastin' time if
you ask that little girl, Kathy Holbein, to show you the best places to
sketch, for she's a born genius with her pencil and brush."

"No, thank you, father," returned Nigel. "I want no little girl to bother
me while I'm sketching--even though she be a born genius--for I think I
possess genius enough my self to select the best points for sketching,
and to get along fairly well without help. At least I'll try what I can do."
"Please yourself, lad. Nevertheless, I think you wouldn't find poor
Kathy a bother; she's too modest for that--moreover, she could manage
a boat and pull a good oar when I was here last, and no doubt she has
improved since."
"Nevertheless, I'd rather be alone," persisted Nigel. "But why do you
call her poor Kathy? She seems to be quite as strong and as jolly as the
rest of her brothers and sisters."
"Ah, poor thing, these are not her brothers and sisters," returned the
captain in a gentler tone.
"Kathy is only an adopted child, and an orphan. Her name, Kathleen, is
not