en
the other for a minute or two, and the next thing I remember is it being
tumble-up time, and till you spoke to me about it just now, I've never
hardly thought about it since. It was doing my duty, sir, of course;
now, warn't it?"

"Of course, Morris," I said importantly; and the man nodded, looked
satisfied, and then glanced to right and left again before unbuttoning
his jacket and cautiously pulling out an old-fashioned gold watch.

"Why, hallo, Morris!" I cried.

"Hush, sir; keep it quiet. Mr Reardon give it to me the day afore
yesterday, and said I wasn't to talk about it, for it was just between
ourselves."

"It's a fine old watch," I said, feeling glad that the man we lads
looked upon as such a stem tyrant could show so warm and generous a side
to his nature.

"Said, sir, he gave it to me for attending so well to dishipline, as he
called it, for he said if I had not attended well to my drill, there
would have been no first lieutenant to give me a watch out of gratitude
for saving his life."

"You must take care of that, Morris," I said.

"Yes, sir," he said dolefully. "That's the worst of it. Gold watch is
an orkard thing for a marine, but I mean to try."

"And be very careful to wind it up regularly every night."

He looked at me with his face all wrinkled up.

"Would you, sir--would you wind it up?"

"Why, of course; what's a watch for?"

"Well, that depends, sir. It's all right for a gentleman, but don't
seem no good to me. We allus knows how many bells it is, and the
sergeants takes good care that we're in time for everything. It's
rather in my way, too. Look here, sir; s'pose you took care of it for
me to the end of the voyage?"

"Oh no, Morris. You'll soon get used to having a watch," I said. "Take
care of it yourself."

He shook his head.

"I don't know as I can, sir," he said. "If it had been a silliver one,
I shouldn't so much have minded. I was thinking of sewing it up in the
padding of my jacket."

"No, no; keep it in your pocket and never part with it," I said. "It's
a watch to be proud of, for it was earned in a noble way."

"Thankye, sir," he cried, as I stood wondering at my own words; "that's
done me good;" and he buttoned his jacket up with an intense look of
satisfaction.

"I'm beginning to think the doctor was right, Gnat," said Barkins one
morning.

"What about?" I said.

"My wound; I don't think the knife was poisoned."

"Why, of course it wasn't;