ng his position, signed to Mr Toots not
to mind him; and presently turned round, with his glazed hat thrust back
upon his ears, and his hand composing and smoothing his brown face.

'Wal'r, my dear lad,' said the Captain, 'farewell! Wal'r my child,
my boy, and man, I loved you! He warn't my flesh and blood,' said the
Captain, looking at the fire--'I ain't got none--but something of what a
father feels when he loses a son, I feel in losing Wal'r. For why?' said
the Captain. 'Because it ain't one loss, but a round dozen. Where's that
there young school-boy with the rosy face and curly hair, that used to
be as merry in this here parlour, come round every week, as a piece of
music? Gone down with Wal'r. Where's that there fresh lad, that nothing
couldn't tire nor put out, and that sparkled up and blushed so, when we
joked him about Heart's Delight, that he was beautiful to look at?
Gone down with Wal'r. Where's that there man's spirit, all afire, that
wouldn't see the old man hove down for a minute, and cared nothing for
itself? Gone down with Wal'r. It ain't one Wal'r. There was a dozen
Wal'rs that I know'd and loved, all holding round his neck when he went
down, and they're a-holding round mine now!'

Mr Toots sat silent: folding and refolding the newspaper as small as
possible upon his knee.

'And Sol Gills,' said the Captain, gazing at the fire, 'poor nevyless
old Sol, where are you got to! you was left in charge of me; his last
words was, "Take care of my Uncle!" What came over you, Sol, when you
went and gave the go-bye to Ned Cuttle; and what am I to put In my
accounts that he's a looking down upon, respecting you! Sol Gills, Sol
Gills!' said the Captain, shaking his head slowly, 'catch sight of that
there newspaper, away from home, with no one as know'd Wal'r by, to say
a word; and broadside to you broach, and down you pitch, head foremost!'

Drawing a heavy sigh, the Captain turned to Mr Toots, and roused himself
to a sustained consciousness of that gentleman's presence.

'My lad,' said the Captain, 'you must tell the young woman honestly that
this here fatal news is too correct. They don't romance, you see, on
such pints. It's entered on the ship's log, and that's the truest book
as a man can write. To-morrow morning,' said the Captain, 'I'll step out
and make inquiries; but they'll lead to no good. They can't do it. If
you'll give me a look-in in the forenoon, you shall know what I have
heerd; but tell the yo