he fancy
shop?"

"Allee light. Ching go back."

"And how are you after our fight to-day?"

"Velly angly. Allee muchee quite 'shame of mandalin men. Big lascal,
evely one."

"So they are," said Barkins. "But I say, Ching, are you a good sailor?"

The Chinaman shook his head.

"Ching velly good man, keep fancee shop. Ching not sailor."

"He means, can you go to sea without being sick?" I said, laughing.

He gave us a comical look.

"Don'tee know. Velly nicee now. Big offlicer say jolly sailor take
gleat care Ching, and give hammock go to sleep. You got banjo, music--
git-tar?"

"One of the chaps has got one," said Smith. "Why?"

"You fetchee for Ching. I play, sing--`ti-ope-I-ow' for captain and
jolly sailor. Makee Ching velly happy, and no makee sea-sick like
coolie in big boat."

"Not to-night, Ching," said Barkins decisively. "Come along, lads. I'm
afraid," he continued, as we strolled right forward, "that some of us
would soon be pretty sick of it if he did begin that precious howling.
But I say, we ought to look after him well, poor old chap; it's precious
rough on him to be taken out to sea like this."

"Yes," I said; "and he behaved like a trump to us to-day."

"That he did," assented Smith, as all three rested our arms on the rail,
and looked at the twinkling distant lights of the shore.

"You give Ching flee dollar," said a voice close behind us, and we
started round, to find that the object of our conversation had come up
silently in his thick, softly-soled boots, in which his tight black
trouser bottoms were tucked.

"Three dollars!" cried Smith; "what for?"

"Say all give Ching dollar show way."

"So we did," cried Barkins. "I'd forgotten all about it."

"So had I."

"But you got us nearly killed," protested Smith.

"That was all in the bargain," cried Barkins. "Well, I say he came out
well, and I shall give him two dollars, though I am getting precious
short."

"Flee dollar," said Ching firmly. Then, shaking his head, he counted
upon his fingers, "One, two, flee."

"It's all right, Ching," I said. "Two dollars apiece. Come on,
Blacksmith." I took out my two dollars. "Come, Tanner."

"No, no," cried Ching; "tanner tickpence; two dollar tickpence won't do.
Flee dollar."

"It's all right," I said, and I held out my hand for my messmates'
contributions, afterward placing the six dollars in the Chinaman's hand.

His long-nailed fingers closed over the double