laugh at him as "an odd, old-fashioned little fellow," as, indeed, he
was; but everybody respected and trusted him.

He walked up and down the quay once or twice before he could make up his
mind what to do. At last he determined to address a sailor-looking man
who was leaning against a stout post round which two or three hawsers
from the neighbouring vessels were secured.

"Is one of those ships there yours?" asked Peter, in a hesitating tone.

"Why do you want to know, my lad?" inquired the seaman.

"Because I want to go and be a sailor in one of them," said Peter.

"Then take my advice, and give up wanting," said the seaman. "Better by
half remain on shore, and tend sheep and cattle, as I have a notion you
have been doing. None of the vessels are mine; I am only mate in the
_John and Mary_, yonder," pointing to a schooner which lay alongside the
quay. "We have got a boy, and I would not have a hand in taking any
youngster away from home unless he knew more about what he would have to
go through than I suspect you do. Now go back, lad, whence you came,"
continued the mate, folding his arms and puffing away at the pipe he had
in his mouth.

One or two other sailors laughed at him or roughly turned aside without
deigning to answer.

At last he reached a two-masted vessel, in reality a brig, somewhat
larger than the rest, but her deck was black with coal-dust, and
everything about her had a dark, grimy look. A rough, black-bearded,
strongly-built man, better dressed than some of those he had spoken to,
was stepping on shore by the plank which formed a communication between
the vessel and the quay. Peter guessed rightly that he was the captain.
Beginning to feel that his hope of going to sea was less likely to be
accomplished than he had expected, he determined, with a feeling
somewhat akin to desperation, to address him, though the expression of
his countenance was far from encouraging.

"Do you want a boy on board your ship, sir?" he said, touching his hat,
as his mother had taught him to do when addressing his betters.

"What, run away from home?" asked the man, stopping, and looking down
upon him.

"I have no home, sir," answered Peter.

"What, no father and mother?"

"No, sir," said Peter. "Mother is dead, and father, they say, is dead,
too."

"Then you will do for me. As it happens, I do want a boy. Here, Jim,"
he said, turning round, and addressing a sailor as rough-looking as he
was himsel