ce got
into a broil at the public-house in the hamlet; still, as he was kind
and affectionate to her, her love in no way diminished. He laughingly
replied to her when she entreated him to be more circumspect in his
conduct:

"Why, old girl, I am quiet as a lamb compared to what I am afloat. They
call me on board `roaring Jack Gray,' and roar I can, I tell you, when I
am doing duty as boatswain's mate."

Jack Gray, who would not look for employment on shore, in spite of
Mary's entreaties that he would do so, determined when the greater part
of his pay and his prize-money had been expended, again to go afloat.

Mary's home was certainly quieter when he was gone, though she would
willingly have detained him. She had, however, enough to occupy her in
looking after her new-born child, little Peter, who, when his father
next came home from sea, had grown into a fine, sturdy boy.

The navy was at this time reduced, and "roaring Jack Gray," who soon
grew tired of a life on shore, had to seek for employment in the
merchant service. All Mary could hear of him was that he had gone away
on a long voyage to foreign parts. The news at length came that the
ship he had sailed in had been lost, and that all the crew had perished.
For some time she lived on in hopes that her husband had escaped, and
might some day return. Not without difficulty was she at length
persuaded by her friends that she was really a widow.

While her husband was in the navy, she had received a portion of his
pay--now she had to depend entirely on her own exertions for the support
of herself and little Peter. On her child she devoted all her care and
attention, and brought him up faithfully in the nurture and admonition
of the Lord, and when he did wrong corrected him carefully and wisely.
She had taught him especially to love the Book of books, and at an early
age little Peter could read fluently and well. When she fell ill he
repaid her loving care with the most tender devotion.

"Mother, shall I read to you?" he asked, as he took his accustomed seat
by her side.

"Do, my boy," she answered, taking a small strongly-bound Bible,
carefully secured in a leathern case, from under her pillow. "I have
been trying to do so, but my eyes are dim, and I could not see the
print; but, praised be God, I can remember parts, and I have been
repeating to myself our merciful Father's blessed promises to us His
children."

"That's true, mother," said Peter, op