irty-looking lad of about eighteen, but
stunted and, dwarfed for his age, came shuffling by us, to follow the
carpenter, and he held one hand to his eye and spoke in answer with his
face half averted.

"Trouble again, sir?" said the poor fellow, half piteously, half in
anger; "I aren't never been out of it since we sailed."

"What have you been doing? Here, let me look at your face."

"Oh, never mind that, sir," said the lad, shrinking.

"But I do mind," said my uncle. "Let me see."

Uncle Dick did not wait for the boy to take down his hand, but drew it
away, to show that the eye was red and swollen up.

"Did the captain do that?" I said.

The lad nodded, and his forehead filled with lines.

"What had you been about?"

"Nothing, sir," said the lad bitterly.

"Then what had you left undone?"

"I dunno, sir. I try all day long to do what the skipper wants, but
it's always kicks when it arn't blows; and when it's neither he's always
swearing at me. I wish I was dead!" he cried passionately.

"Stop here," cried Uncle Dick, sharply, for the lad was moving off, with
his eye covered up again.

Regularly cowed, the lad stopped short, flinching the while.

"Don't do that," said Uncle Dick. "I was not going to strike you."

"No, sir, but everybody else does, 'cept the carpenter. But I don't
care now; I shall go overboard and end it."

"Why?" said Uncle Dick.

"Why, sir? What's the good o' living such a life as this?"

"This ship is not the whole world, my lad, and all the people are not
like the captain."

The lad looked half wonderingly at my uncle, and then turned to me with
so pitiful a look that I felt ready to take the poor fellow's part the
next time he was in trouble.

"Everyone nearly seems the same to me," he said drearily. "I don't know
why I come to sea. Thought it was all going to be adventures and
pleasure, and it's all kicks and blows, just because I'm a boy."

The poor fellow looked enviously at me, and sniffing loudly, walked on.

"It ought to be stopped, uncle," I said. "The poor fellow's life is
made miserable."

"Yes, Nat. It is terrible to see how one man can make other people's
lives a burden to them. I'm a regular tyrant to you sometimes."

I laughed.

"Why, Aunt Sophy says you spoil me," I cried.

"Well, we will not argue about that, my boy," said my uncle; "we've too
much to think about. In twenty-four hours we shall be afloat with our
boat to ourselves; and t