rs which they knew not of."

Such a man in the forecastle of a ship and in my seafaring days such men
were not rare is a treasure. He lightens the labors of a crew, adds to
the harmony and happiness of all on board, shortens a passage, and, as a
natural consequence, promotes the interests of the owner.

On one occasion, however, Silvernail's fondness for fun threatened to
disturb the harmony which was wont to reign in the forecastle. Among
the crew was a big, clumsy Dutchman, through whose thick cranium no joke
could penetrate, and whose feet were of proportions as huge as his
head, each resembling, in size and shape, a Brazilian catamaran. The
men conversing one day of the dangers of the seas, and the best means
of preserving life in cases of shipwreck, or when accidentally falling
overboard, Hans, who cherished a strong attachment to his own dear
person, expressed a regret that he had no cork jacket, by whose aid he
could float above the waves.

"Be under no concern on that account," remarked Jonas. "If you were in
the water, a cork jacket would be of no more use to you than a pair of
curling tongs to Cuffy, the black cook. But don't try to swim. TREAD
WATER lustily with those mud scows (pointing to his feet) and you will
never go to the bottom."

"You just let my foot alone," said Hans, his face glowing with
indignation. "You are always poking fun at my foot, and I don't half
like it. My foot is one very good foot, (holding it up, and swaying it
backwards and forwards;) just fit to kick an impudent vagabone with and
teach him better manners."

"That may be true," said Silvernail, with a provoking grin; "but if you
should chance to miss the vagabone, as you call him, YOUR FOOT WOULD FLY
OFF!"

This, and the loud laugh from his shipmates, with which it was attended,
was more than even the phlegmatic Dutchman could bear. He made a furious
pass at Jonas with his much-abused foot, which, if it had taken effect,
would have demolished the joker in a twinkling. But Jonas stepped aside,
caught the ponderous foot in his hand, and the next moment Hans was
sprawling on his back. He arose, breathing guttural but incomprehensible
denunciations against his tormentor, who escaped from his clutches by
nimbly running up the ratlines to the foretop, where he could safely
indulge his merriment over the wrath of the Dutchman.

I was often amused at the ingenious manner in which Jonas managed to get
over a difficulty. One day when