think so many things so
quickly that I do not know what you mean a good deal of the time.
But--but Cousin Scraper took me when my people died, and he has taken
care of me ever since, and--and he has no one else to take care of him
now."

"Yes, the fine care he has taken of you!" said the Skipper. "You are of
skin and bone, my child, and there are marks on your skin of blows, I
saw them yesterday: cruel blows, given from a bad heart. You have worked
for him, this ancient fish-skin, how long? Of wages, how much has he
paid you? Tell me these things, and I will tell you how much it is your
duty to stay by him."

But John shook his head, and the shadows deepened in his blue eyes.

"You cannot tell a person those things," he said; "a person has to tell
himself those things. But thank you all the same," he added, fervently;
"and I love you always more and more, every day and every minute, and I
always shall."

"Now the question is," said the Skipper, shrugging his shoulders in mock
despair, "must I turn pirate in truth, to gain possession of a child
whom I could hold in my pocket, and who would give all his coloured hair
from his head to go with me? Go away, son of mine, that I reflect on
these things, for you try my soul!"

John withdrew, very sad, and wondering how it was that right and wrong
could ever get mixed. He thought of looking in some of the old books to
see, but, somehow, books did not appeal to him just now. He went up to
his own little room, and took down the china poodle, and had a long
talk with him; that was very consoling, and he felt better after it; it
was wonderful how it cleared the mind to talk a thing over with an old
friend. The poodle said little, but his eyes were full of sympathy, and
that was the main thing. By-and-by, as the child sat by his little
window, polishing the pearl-shell on his sleeve, and thinking over the
strange events of the last few days, there came to him from below the
sound of voices. The doctor was there, evidently; perhaps Mr. Bill Hen,
too; and little as he felt inclined to merriment, John fell into a
helpless laughter, as he recalled the look of that worthy man when he
was discovered flattened against the door. How much older one grew
sometimes in a short time! Mr. Bill Hen used to look so old, so wise,
and now he seemed no more than another boy, and perhaps rather a foolish
boy. But seeing the Skipper made a great difference in a person's life.

Presently the door a