an with a kinder heart, never. He was a bit
fiery and off at a tangent, always thinking he was right and every one
else wrong; but he was a fine fellow, and you bid fair to be like him.
Here, take the handkerchief, and you can show it to your mother.
She'll know it; for John said to me, 'I'll let you have it for your
poor leg; but when I come back you must give it to me again, because my
wife tied it round my neck when I bid her good-bye, and I value it.' I
remember he said, 'She is a right good woman is my wife, and I'll see
her and the boy again, please God. I never lose heart.' Well, he may
see you again in the next world, but never in this, boy, never in this;
he is dead and gone long ago."

Jack folded the handkerchief, and put it in his pocket. He felt
strangely affected by the sailor's story, and could only say:

"If ever I see my mother again she shall have this token. She has
often prayed for a token that my father was dead, or a sign that he was
living; and now she will have it."

Then Jack returned to his post on the deck, and, throwing himself down
behind some loose crates, found himself sobbing bitterly.

The homeward voyage was prosperous, and it was on a bright August
evening that the white cliffs of old England came in sight. In another
hour Jack and his old friend found themselves dropping down with the
tide to St. Catherine's Docks.

They were penniless, and how to get back to Yarmouth was a puzzle.
Jack could walk, but Colley could only hobble with the help of a stick.
The captain was kindly-disposed, and at parting gave Jack a few
shillings, saying he had more than earned his biscuit; while the mate
said he felt quite downhearted at losing him.

"Tell 'ee what, lad," Colley said, "I know there's a place where the
shipwrecked fishermen's folk hang out. Let's enquire for it, and may
be they'll give us a helping hand."

So the two made their way through the crowded thoroughfares to the
place which has been a refuge for many in like circumstances. The
kindness of their reception greatly cheered old Colley, and they were
put up for the night, while inquiries were made about the _Galatea_,
and the truth of their story.

"The _Galatea_ had been lost, with all hands," was the answer from
Lloyd's; and the captain of the _Claudia_, the ship which had picked
the poor waifs up in mid-ocean, gave both man and boy an excellent
character.

"The old geezer was useless, but I didn't grudge him his