Miss Rolleston, blushing at the
preposterous demand.

"No, miss, in Capericorn. Whereby we shan't have to pay nothing for this
here cabbage. I'll tell ye, miss: when a sailor comes ashore he always
goes in for green vegetables, for why, he has eaten so much junk and
biscuit, nature sings out for greens. Me and my shipmates was paid off at
Portsmouth last year, and six of us agreed to dine together and each
order his dish. Blest if six boiled legs of mutton did not come up
smoking hot: three was with cabbage, and three with turmots. Mine was
with turmots. But them I don't ask, so nigh the Line. Don't ye go to
think, because I'm sick, and the lady and you is so kind to me, and to
him that is a waiting outside them there shoals for me, as I'm
onreasonable; turmots I wish you both, and plenty of 'em, when some
whaler gets driven out of her course and picks you up, and carries you
into northern latitudes where turmots grow; but cabbage is my right,
cabbage is my due, being paid off in a manner; for the ship is foundered
and I'm ashore. Cabbage I ask for, as a seaman that has done his duty,
and a man that won't live to eat many more of 'em; and" (losing his
temper), "if you are the man I take you for, you'll run and fetch me a
cabbage fresh from the tree" (recovering his temper). "I know I didn't
ought to ax a parson to shin up a tree for me; but, Lord bless you, there
ain't no sarcy little boys a-looking on, and here's a poor fellow mostly
dying for it."

Miss Rolleston looked at Mr. Hazel with alarm in every feature; and
whispered, "Cabbage from the tree. Is he wandering?"

Hazel smiled. "No," said he. "He has picked up a fable of these seas,
that there is a tree which grows cabbages."

Welch heard him and said, with due warmth, "Of course there is a tree on
all these islands that grows cabbages; that was known a hundred years
before you was born, and shipmates of mine have eaten them."

"Excuse me, what those old admirals and buccaneers, that set the legend
afloat, were so absurd as to call a cabbage, and your shipmates may have
eaten for one, is nothing on earth but the last year's growth of the
palm-tree."

"Palm-tree be ----!" said Welch; and thereupon ensued a hot argument,
which Helen's good sense cut short.

"Mr. Hazel," said she, "can you by any possibility get our poor friend
the _thing_ he wants?"

"Oh, _that_ is quite within the bounds of possibility," said Hazel dryly.

"Well, then, suppose you begin