nice fellow--third mate, isn't he?--and gave orders for the rum.
'Two-water grog, Mr. Johnson,' says he. 'Ah, captain,' I said, 'don't be
throwing cold water on the entertainment; they got their share of that
last night. It's only the rum that's required to complete us now.' But
he's as deaf to fun as he is to blarney. Is he good to you, little
stowaway?"

"Oh, very," said I. "And you should hear what the men tell about other
captains. They all like this one."

"He has an air of uprightness about him; and so has that
brother-in-adversity of yours, more polish to him! He must be a noble
fellow, though. I can't get over _his_ volunteering, without the most
distant obligation to risk his life for me--not even a sailor. And yet
he won't be friendly, do what I will. As formal as you please--that's
pride, I suppose--he's Scotch too, isn't he? Blarney's no go with him.
Faith, it's like trying to butter short-bread with the thermometer at
zero. By Jove, there he is ahead of us. Alister, man! Not the ghost of a
look will he give me. He's fine-looking, too, if his hair wasn't so
insanely distracted, and his brow ridged and furrowed deep enough to
plant potatoes in. What in the name of fortune's he doing to his hands?"

"He's _washing_ them with a lump of grease," said I. "I saw Francis give
it him. It's to get the tar off."

"That indeed? Alister! _Alister_! Have ye no eyes in the back of ye?
Here's Jack and myself."

"I beg your pardon, sir," said Alister, stiffly.

"Oh, confound your _sir_-liness!" muttered Dennis, and added aloud, "Is
that pomatum for your hair?"

Alister laughed in spite of himself.

"More like hair-_dye_, sir," said he, and rubbing desperately at his
fingers, he added, "I can't get them decent."

"Ah, let them rest!" said Dennis. "It's painting the lily to adorn them.
On ye go; and mind ye keep near to us, and we'll make a landlubber's
parliament in a corner to ourselves."

My first friend had thawed, and went cheerfully ahead of us, as I was
very glad to see. Dennis saw it too, but only to relapse into mischief.
He held me back, as Alister strode in front, and putting out his thumb
and finger, so close to a tuft of hay-coloured hair that stood cocked
defiantly up on the Scotchman's crown that I was in all the agony he
meant me to be for fear of detection, he chattered in my ear, "Jack, did
ye ever study physiognomy, or any of the science of externals? Look at
this independent tuft. Isn't the wh