I was whiniver she gev me annything to
do," answered Paddy, with a grin; "but this _is_ my right hand, properly
spaking, ounly it's got on the left side by mistake. 'Twas my ould uncle
Dan (rest his sowl!) taught me that thrick. 'Dinnis, me bhoy,' he'd be
always sayin', 'ye should aiven l'arn to clip yer finger-nails wid the
left hand, _for fear ye'd some day lose the right_.'"

This "bull" drew a shout of laughter from all who heard it, and the
officer, turning his head to conceal a smile, caught sight of our hero.

"Hallo! another landsman! Boatswain, hold that gang-plank a moment, or
we'll be taking this youngster to sea with us."

"That's just what I want," cried the boy, vehemently. "_Will_ you take
me, sir?"

"Run away from home, of course," muttered the officer. "That's what
comes of reading _Robinson Crusoe_--they all do it. Well, my lad, as I
see it's too late to put you ashore now, what do you want to ship as?
Ever at sea before?"

"No, sir; but I'll take any place you like to give me."

"Sign here, then."

And down went the name of "Frank Austin," under the printed heading of
"Working Passenger." The officer went off with the paper, the sailors
dispersed, and Frank was left alone.

Gradually the countless lights of New York, Brooklyn, and Jersey City
sank behind, as the vessel neared the great gulf of darkness beyond the
Narrows. Tompkins Light, Fort Lafayette, Sandy Hook, slipped by one by
one. The bar was crossed, the light-ship passed, and now no sound broke
the dreary silence but the rush of the steamer through the dark waters,
with the "Highland Lights" watching her like two steadfast eyes.

Of what was the lonely boy thinking as he stood there on the threshold
of his first voyage? Did he picture to himself, swimming, through a hail
of Dutch and English cannon-shot with the dispatch that turned the
battle, the round black head of a little cabin-boy who was one day to be
Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovel? Did he see a vast dreary ice-field
outspread beneath the cold blue arctic sky, and midway across it the
huge ungainly figure of a polar bear, held at bay with the butt of an
empty musket by a young middy whose name was Horatio Nelson? Was it the
low sandy shores of Egypt that he saw, reddened by the flames of a huge
three-decker, aboard of which the boy Casabianca

"stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but him had fled"?

Or were his visions of an English "reefer" being thrashed on his