bwebs shine out
in a field in summer. Gay flags and pennons fluttered in the wind;
brown sails, grey sails, and gleaming white sails went up and down;
and behind it all the water sparkled and dazzled our eyes like the
glittering reflections from a mirror moving in the sun.

As we ran nearer the ropes looked thicker, and we could see the
devices on the flags. And suddenly, straining his eyes at the yards of
a vessel in the thick of the ship-forest, on which was something
black, like a spider with only four legs, Fred cried, "It's a sailor!"

I saw him quite well. And seeing him higher up than on any tree one
could ever climb, with the sunny sky above him and the shining water
below him, I could only mutter out with envious longing--"How happy he
must be!"

CHAPTER XIII.

A DIRTY STREET--A BAD BOY--SHIPPING AND MERCHANDISE--WE STOWAWAY ON
BOARD THE 'ATALANTA'--A SALT TEAR.

The man in the white jacket helped us out, smiling as he did so, so
that his teeth shone like ivory in his black face. We took the
pie-dish and our bundles, and thanked him very much, and the train
went on and took him with it, which we felt sorry for. For when one
_is_ out in the world, you know, one sometimes feels rather lonely,
and sorry to part with a kind friend.

Everybody else went through a little gate into the street, so we did
the same. It was a very dirty street, with houses on one side and the
railway on the other. There were cabbages and carrots and old shoes
and fishes' heads and oyster-shells and potato-peelings in the street,
and a goat was routing among it all with its nose, as if it had lost
something and hoped to find it by and by.

Places like this always seemed to depress Fred's courage. Besides
which, he was never in good spirits when he had to go long without
food, which made me fear he would not bear being cast adrift at sea
without provisions as well as his grandfather had done. I was not
surprised when he said,

"_What_ a place! And I don't believe one can get anything fit to eat,
and I am so hungry!"

I looked at the houses. There was a pork-butcher's shop, and a real
butcher's shop, and a slop shop, and a seedy jeweller's shop with
second-hand watches, which looked as if nothing would ever make them
go, and a small toy and sweetmeat shop, but not a place that looked
like breakfast. I had taken Fred's bundle because he was so tired, and
I suppose it was because I was staring helplessly about that a dirty