oes, mate."
"Go on," said Uncle Jack.
"Well, first one went mad and jumped overboard, then another died, then
another, and I thought that Bill would die too, when down came a shower,
and with the help of our sail we filled an empty breaker which we had in
the boat. Then we knocked down a bird which came near us, and that gave
us a little more strength. Then three flying-fish came aboard, which
kept us for three days more, and after that we caught a small shark, but
the water came to an end, and we were both so well-nigh done for that
neither Bill nor I could hold an oar to steer by, nor knew where we were
going--I speaks the truth, don't I, Bill?"
"I suppose you does, but I don't mind much what happened then. I was
too bad," said Bill.
"Well, as I was a-saying, I thought it was all over with us, when a ship
hove in sight and took us aboard. She was a foreign craft, and not a
word of what her people said could we make out, any more than they could
understand us. We were not over well treated, so we ran from her the
first place we touched at; and after knocking about for a long spell in
them South Sea islands among the savages, in one craft or another, we
got home at last. What I've told you is the blessed truth; ain't it,
Bill?"
Bill grunted his assent to this assertion; he evidently was not a man of
words.
My uncle cross-questioned the men, but could get nothing more out of
either of them. Whether or not he was perfectly satisfied I could not
tell. Still it seemed too probable that the "Amphion," with my father
and all hands, was lost.
Having lodged the seamen so as to find them again, my uncle returned
with me to my mother. She was prepared for the information he had to
give her. She had for some time been persuaded of what everybody else
believed, that my father was lost, and she now knew herself to be a
widow. It was a severe shock to her notwithstanding. She looked at me
and my five brothers and sisters, all younger than I was.
"What shall I do with these fatherless children?" she asked, while her
eyes filled with tears, thinking more of us than of herself; "my means
are almost exhausted, for my dear husband saved but little, and I shall
not have the wherewithall to pay the rent of this house, much less their
food and clothing."
"God has promised to provide for the fatherless and widows," answered
Uncle Jack; "while I have a shilling in my pocket it shall be yours,
Mary. Harry, too,
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