k here, mate," said he, "you've the trick with birds, and no
mistake. I'll sell you this one cheap, and you'll be able to sell him
dear."

"I've not a penny in the world," said John Broom.

"You do look cleaned out too," said the man, scanning him from head to
foot. "I tell you what, you shall come with me a bit and tame the birds,
and I'll find you something to eat."

Ten minutes before, John Broom would have jumped at this offer, but now
he refused it. The sight of the cockatoo had brought back the fever of
home-sickness in all its fierceness. He couldn't stay out here. He would
dare anything, do anything, to see the hills about Lingborough once more
before him died; and even if he did not live to see them, he might live
to sleep in that part of Davy's Locker which should rock him on the
shores of home.

The man gave him a shilling for fastening a ring and chain on to the
Cocky's ankle, and with this he got the best dinner he had eaten since
he lost sight of the farm-bailiff's speckled hat in the mist.

And then he went back to the one-eyed sailor, and shipped as cabin-boy
again for the homeward voyage.

THE HIGHLANDER.--BARRACK LIFE.--THE GREAT CURSE.--JOHN BROOM'S
MONEY-BOX.

When John Broom did get home he did not go to sea again. He lived from
hand to mouth in the seaport town, and slept, as he was well accustomed
to sleep, in holes and corners.

Every day and every night, through the long months of the voyage, he had
dreamed of begging his way barefoot to Miss Betty's door. But now he did
not go. His life was hard, but it was not cruel. He was very idle, and
there was plenty to see. He wandered about the country as of old. The
ships and shipping too had a fascination for him now that the past was
past, and here he could watch them from the shore; and, partly for shame
and partly for pride, he could not face the idea of going back. If he
had been taunted with being a vagrant boy before, what would be said now
if he presented himself, a true tramp, to the farm-bailiff? Besides,
Miss Betty and Miss Kitty could not forgive him. It was impossible!

He was wandering about one day when he came to some fine high walls with
buildings inside. There was an open gateway, at which stood a soldier
with a musket. But a woman and some children went in, and he did not
shoot them; so when his back was turned, and he was walking stiffly to
where he came from, John Broom ran in through the gateway.

The first man h