ub his eyes several times before he could make them out, even with his
messmate's help.

"It's not from father at all," he observed, after looking at the paper
all over. "S. Fletcher must be my biggest brother, and he always gave
me more kicks than ha'pence."

The letter began:--

"Dear Tom,--Our father received yours of the third instant, as the first
intimation of your being alive since your unaccountable disappearance.
You have caused us by your wicked proceeding no end of grief and
trouble, and, as far as we can make out by your wretchedly written
epistle, you do not seem to be at all ashamed of yourself, or sorry for
what you have done; and our father bids me to say, that as you have made
your bed, you must lie in it. As to making you an allowance of thirty
or forty pounds a year, and getting you placed on the quarter-deck, the
notion is too ridiculous to be entertained. I must tell you, too, our
father has failed, smashed up completely, won't pay sixpence in the
pound. As we find it a hard matter to live, he is not likely to make
you an allowance of thirty pounds, or thirty pence a year, or to trouble
himself by going to the Admiralty with the certainty of being sent away
with a flea in his ear; so you see, Tom, you must just grin and bear it.
If you don't get killed, I would advise you--should you ever wish to
come home--to make your appearance with your pockets full of the
prize-money you talk of, and you will then perhaps receive a welcome,
and be well entertained as long as it lasts by the rest of the family,
as also by--

"Your affectionate brother--

"S. Fletcher.

"P.S. Until then I would advise you not to show your nose in this
neighbourhood."

"He always was an ill-natured fellow, was my brother Sam," exclaimed
Tom, not seeming concerned at the news of his father's ruin, while,
crumpling up the letter, he thrust it into his pocket. "I feel inclined
to hang myself or jump overboard."

"Don't think of doing anything so bad," said Bill. "You are no worse
off than you were before. All you've got to do is to attend to your
duty, and try to please those above you."

"The cook and the cook's mate," growled poor Tom. "It isn't a pleasant
task to have to scrub saucepans and clean out the galley."

"But it is your duty, and while you have to do it it would be best to
try and do it as well as you can," observed Bill. "Neither the cook nor
the cook's mate are bad fellows, and you will gain th