son: his wife was
passionately fond of him, and very jealous, which was not to be wondered
at, for, as she said, "There never was such a husband before or since."

We must now return to the conference, observing, that all these parties
were sitting down on the deck, and that Jemmy Ducks had his fiddle in
his hand, holding it with the body downwards like a base viol, for he
always played it in that way, and that he occasionally fingered the
strings, pinching them as you do a guitar, so as to send the sound of it
aft, that Mr Vanslyperken might suppose that they were all met for
mirth. Two or three had their eyes directed aft, that the appearance of
Corporal Van Spitter or the marines might be immediately perceived; for,
although the corporal was not a figure to slide into a conference
unperceived, it was well known that he was an eavesdropper.

"One thing's sartin," observed Coble, "that a dog's not an officer."

"No," replied Dick Short.

"He's not on the ship's books, so I can't see how it can be mutiny."

"No," rejoined Short.

"Mein Got--he is not a tog, he is te tyfel," observed Jansen.

"Who knows how he came into the cutter?"

"There's a queer story about that," said one of the men.

Tum tum, tumty tum--said the fiddle of Jemmy Ducks, as if it took part
in the conference.

"That poor boy will be killed if things go on this way: the skipper will
never be content till he has driven his soul out of his body--poor
creature; only look at him as he lies in his hammock."

"I never seed a Christian such an object," said one of the sailors.

"If the dog ain't killed, Bones will be, that's sartain," observed
Coble: "and I don't see why the preference should be given to a human
individual, although the dog is the skipper's dog--now then, what d'ye
say, my lads?"

Tum tum, tum tum, tumty tumty tum, replied the fiddle.

"Let's hang him at once."

"No," replied Short.

Jansen took out his snickerree, looked at Short, and made a motion with
the knife, as if passing it across the dog's throat.

"No," replied Short.

"Let's launch him overboard at night," said one of the men.

"But how is one to get the brute out of the cabin?" said Cobb; "if it's
done at all it must be done by day."

Short nodded his head.

"I will give him a launch the first opportunity," observed Jemmy Ducks,
"only--(continued he in a measured and lower tone)--I should first like
to know whether he really is a dog or _not_."

"A tog