a good deal among regular sailors."

"Ah! That's the work that _I'm_ fond of," said the captain, with
enthusiasm. "Of course I don't mean to say that the soul of a sailor is
of more value than that of any other man, but I lean to sailors
naturally, havin' been among 'em the greater part of my life. I've done
a little myself in the way of preachin' to 'em."

"Have you?" exclaimed the missionary, with a pleased look.

And from this point the two men went off into a confidential and
animated talk about their varied experiences on the sea of spiritual
work, on which they had both been launched, while the boatman--an old
and evidently sympathetic man--pulled them to the vessel which lay at
some distance from the place of embarkation.

While the two friends--for such they had become by that time--were
chatting thus with each other, a little accident was in store for
Captain Bream, which not only disarranged his plans, but afterwards
considerably affected his career.

Having reached the age of sixty years, our captain was not quite as
active in body as he had once been. He was, however, quite as active in
heart and mind, besides having much of the fire of youth still burning
in him. Hence he was apt at times to forget his body in the impulsive
buoyancy of his spirit. An instance of this forgetfulness occurred that
day. The missionary paid a passing visit to a vessel on their way to
the emigrant ship. Having run alongside, Captain Bream put his foot on
the first step of the ladder, with intent to mount the vessel's side.

"Have a care, sir," said the old boatman, who was assisting him with
some anxiety.

It may be that the captain's too youthful spirit spurned assistance, or
that he had miscalculated the powers of his too ancient body, for at the
moment his foot slipped while as yet his hold of the man-ropes was not
secure, and he fell with a lion-like roar that might have shamed the
stoutest king of the African forests.

It was not a cry of fear, still less was it a shout for help. It seemed
rather like an effervescing roar of indignant surprise.

The boatman held up his arms to catch the unfortunate man, but his
strength availed nothing against such a weight. He was hurled into the
bottom of the boat for his pains, and the captain went into the water
feet first as deep as the waist. Here, however, the disaster was
checked, for his strong arms caught the boat and held on.

The missionary, meanwhile, spran