hirteen; after gettin' a hidin' with a bit av harness for doin'
somethin' I never did at all. I've never seen the old man since and
never want to. Bad cess to him.

"Would ye like a bite before ye turn in, sor? It's past supper-time,
but I can find ye a scrapin' av something."

"A bite and a bath,--if I may?" I put in. "I'm sticky all over."

"A bath! Right ye are. I knew ye was a toff the minute I clapped my
blinkers on ye."

In ten minutes my talkative friend announced that my bath was in
readiness. For ten minutes more he rattled on to me at intervals,
through the bathroom door, poking into my past and arranging my future
like a clairvoyant.

Notwithstanding, he had a nice, steaming-hot supper waiting for me when
I returned to my stateroom.

As I fell-to, he stood by, enjoying the relish I displayed in the
appeasing of my hunger.

"If I was a young fellow av your age, strong build and qualities, do ye
know where I would make for?" he ventured.

"Where?" I asked, uninterestedly.

He lowered his eyebrows. "Out West,--Canada," he said, with a decided
nod of his head. "And, the farther west the better. The Pacific Coast
has a climate like home, only better. For the main part, ye're away
from the long winters;--it's a new country;--a young man's
country:--it's wild and free:--and,--it's about as far away as ye can
get from--from,--the trouble ye're leavin' behind."

I looked across at him.

"Oh! bhoy,--I've been there. I know what I'm talkin' about."

He sighed. "But I'm gettin' old and I've been too long on the sea to
give it up."

He pulled himself together suddenly. Owing to his stature, that was
not a very difficult task.

"Man!--ye're tired. I'll be talkin' no more to you. Tumble in and
sleep till we get to Glasgow."

As he cleared away the dishes, I approached him regarding my fare.

"Look here, steward,--I had not time to book my berth or pay my
passage. What's the damage?"

"Ten and six, sor, exclusive av meals," he answered, taking out his
ticket book in a business-like way.

"What name, sor?"

"Name!--oh, yes! name!" I stammered. "Why!--George Bremner."

He looked at me and his face fell. I am sure his estimation of me fell
with it. I was almost sorry I had not obliged him by calling myself
Algernon something-or-other.

I paid him.

"When do you expect to arrive in Glasgow?" I asked.

"Eight o'clock to-morrow morning, sor. And," he added, "there's a boat
leave