O'Brien's good advice--Captain Kearney again deals in the marvellous.

I do not remember any circumstance in my life which, at that time, lay
so heavily on my mind as the loss of poor Mr Chucks, the boatswain, who,
of course, I took it for granted I should never see again. I believe
that the chief cause was that at the time I entered the service, and
every one considered me to be the fool of the family, Mr Chucks and
O'Brien were the only two who thought of and treated me differently; and
it was their conduct which induced me to apply myself and encouraged me
to exertion. I believe that many a boy, who, if properly patronized,
would turn out well, is, by the injudicious system of browbeating and
ridicule, forced into the wrong path, and, in his despair, throws away
all self-confidence, and allows himself to be carried away by the stream
to perdition. O'Brien was not very partial to reading himself. He played
the German flute remarkably well, and had a very good voice. His chief
amusement was practising, or rather playing, which is a very different
thing; but although he did not study himself, he always made me come
into his cabin for an hour or two every day, and, after I had read,
repeat to him the contents of the book. By this method he not only
instructed me, but gained a great deal of information himself; for he
made so many remarks upon what I had read, that it was impressed upon
both our memories.

"Well, Peter," he would say, as he came into the cabin, "what have you
to tell me this morning? Sure it's you that's the schoolmaster, and not
me--for I learn from you every day."

"I have not read much, O'Brien, to-day, for I have been thinking of poor
Mr Chucks."

"Very right for you so to do, Peter. Never forget your friends in a
hurry. You'll not find too many of them as you trot along the highway of
life."

"I wonder whether he is dead?"

"Why, that's a question I cannot answer. A bullet through the chest
don't lengthen a man's days, that's certain; but this I know, that he'll
not die if he can help it, now that he's got the captain's jacket on."

"Yes; he always aspired to be a gentleman, which was absurd enough in a
boatswain."

"Not at all absurd, Peter, but very absurd of you to talk without
thinking. When did any one of his shipmates ever know Mr Chucks to do an
unhandsome or mean action? Never; and why? Because he aspired to be a
gentleman, and that feeling kept him above it. Vanity's a confounde