lk socks, patent-leather
dress-pumps, and an old Norfolk jacket. When we began to roll off Ushant
and ship a few seas, it appeared Mr. Bloom had neither oilskins nor
sea-boots. To see him skipping along through green sea water in his
dress-pumps, to look at the patent log, was a revelation of human
improvidence. Here was a man the wrong side of forty, and he hadn't the
sense to bring suitable clothing to sea with him! At the table he
bewildered, angered, and contradicted poor old Jack with political
argument. Once, after getting his anchors fouled, and firing his
clutch-blocks, and otherwise making a mess of things on the
forecastle-head, he had the temerity to tell Jack that 'every
ship-master ought to have tariff-reform at his finger-ends.' Jack nearly
had apoplexy. He managed to sputter out that 'every mate ought to have
his job at his finger-ends, or else go home and buy a farm.' Mr. Bloom,
holding his fine military figure erect and delicately preening his
moustache, told me afterward 'That's the worst of these young
ship-masters--they think insults are arguments.'

"Now I saw trouble ahead for Jack with Mr. Bloom on board. I don't
pretend to have a very profound insight into human character, but I had
an indefinable conviction that Mrs. Evans would look favourably upon Mr.
Basil Bloom. Oh, no, I don't mean that my prurient mind was gloating
over the destruction of Jack's marital bliss. Not at all. I never liked
Madeline, but I do her the justice of proclaiming her inviolable
chastity. What I mean is, I felt that she had more in common
intellectually with Mr. Bloom than with us. He had a good deal of the
fussiness of middle-aged shore-people, clearing his throat, coughing
behind his hand, saying 'excuse me,' smoothing his hair with his palm,
and referring to things he had seen 'in the papers.' And in spite of his
inadequate sea-going gear, he invariably appeared in a more or less
clean stiff collar. A woman, I mean a genteel woman, will never utterly
condemn any man so long as he wears a collar. This would not have
mattered save that Jack and I invariably abandoned collars as soon as
the pilot had left.

"So, when Mr. Basil Bloom, in a dirty gray lounge suit, brown Oxford
shoes, a grimy collar, and a deer-stalker hat, bent over me and enquired
if I had seen the arrivals, I shook my head and got up to walk away. But
Mr. Bloom detained me. Had I not seen the nurse? Nice little piece of
goods. And the baby was a litt