of
cuttin' his life short, why then, he wouldn't never come to old age to
use his fortin, even if he _should_ manage to save it off his baccy."

This last argument always brought Jarwin off with flying colours--no
wonder, for it was unanswerable; and thus he came to love his beer and
baccy so much that he became thoroughly enslaved to both.

His brief residence on the south-sea island had taught him, by painful
experience, that he _was_ capable of existing without at least two of
his three B's--bread and beer. He had suffered somewhat from the change
of diet; and now that his third B was thus suddenly, unexpectedly, and
hopelessly wrenched from him, he sat himself down on the beach beside
Cuffy, and gazed out to sea in absolute despair.

We must guard the reader at this point from supposing that John Jarwin
had ever been what is called an intemperate man. He was one of those
honest, straightforward tars who do their duty like men, and who,
although extremely fond of their pipe and their glass of grog, never
lower themselves below the level of the brutes by getting drunk. At the
same time, we feel constrained to add that Jarwin acted entirely from
impulse and kindly feeling. He had little to do with principle, and did
not draw towards those who professed to be thus guided. He was wont to
say that they "was troublesome fellers, always shovin' in their oars
when they weren't wanted to, an' settin' themselves up for better than
everybody else." Had one of those troublesome fellows presented John
Jarwin with a pound of tobacco in his forlorn circumstances, at that
time he would probably have slapped him on the shoulder, and called him
one of the best fellows under the sun!

"Cuffy, my friend," exclaimed Jarwin at last, with an explosive sigh,
"all the baccy's gone, so we'll have to smoke sea-weed for the futur'."
The terrier said "Bow-wow" to this, cocked its ears, and looked earnest,
as if waiting for more.

"Come along," exclaimed the man, overturning his dog as he leaped up,
"we'll go home and have summat to eat."

Jarwin had erected a rude hut, composed of boughs and turf, near the
fountain where he had first landed. It was the home to which he
referred. At first he had devoted himself entirely to the erection of
this shelter, and to collecting various roots and fruits and shell-fish
for food, intending to delay the examination of the island until his
strength should be sufficiently restored to enable him t