send except Polly, and I
wouldn't send her out at night by herself for all the wealth of Indy.
Moreover, _she_ wouldn't have let me out to-night for any consideration
whatever. She's very strict with me, is my little keeper. I wouldn't
for the world she should wake and find me gone. So, good-night all."

Ten minutes more, and the guilty man entered his dwelling on tiptoe. In
order to get into his hammock with extreme caution he forsook his
ancient method of a spring, and mounted on an empty cask. The cask was
not equal to the emergency. He went through the head of it with a
hideous crash! Spurning it from him, he had just time to plunge into
his place of repose and haul the clothes over him, when Polly emerged
from her lair with wondering eyes.

"What ever was that, father?"

"Nothin', my dear, nothin' in partickler--only a cask I kicked over.
Now, then, Poll, since you're keepin' me awake in this fashion, it's
your dooty to soothe me with an extra panful, and another nor'-wester--
so, up wi' the pyramid; and after you've done it you must turn into your
crib. I'll not want you again to-night; the cough's much better.
There--thank 'ee. Pollyfy me now--that's right. Good-night."

Oh, base mariner! little did you merit such a pleasant termination to
your evening's work; but you are not the only wicked man in this world
who receives more than he deserves.

Two days after the incidents just related a noble ship spread her canvas
to a favouring breeze, and bowing farewell to her port of departure,
commenced the long long voyage to the Antipodes.

She was not a passenger ship, but a trader; nevertheless there were a
few passengers on her quarter-deck, and among these towered the colossal
figure of Captain Samson. Beside him, holding his hand, stood a
fairy-like little creature with brown curls and pretty blue eyes. Not
far from her, leaning over the bulwarks, Benjamin Trench frantically
waved a handkerchief and wiped his eyes. The signal was responded to,
with equal feeling, by the bailie, his wife, and little Susan. A good
number of people, young and old, assembled at the pier-head, among whom
many waved handkerchiefs, and hands, and scarfs, and hats to the crew.

Among the sailors who gazed wistfully towards the pier was one who made
no farewell signal, and received no parting wave. Philosopher Jack had
concealed his intention of going to sea from all his college chums, and
a bitter feeling of loneline