, but it's true notwithstanding," returned Peterkin,
pretending to be hurt at my doubting his word.

"Let us hear how it happened," said Jack, while a good-natured smile
overspread his face.

"Well, you must know," began Peterkin, "that the very day before I went
to sea I was greatly taken up with a game at hockey, which I was playing
with my old school-fellows for the last time before leaving them.--You
see I was young then, Ralph." Peterkin gazed, in an abstracted and
melancholy manner, out to sea.--"Well, in the midst of the game, my
uncle, who had taken all the bother and trouble of getting me bound
'prentice and rigged out, came and took me aside, and told me that he
was called suddenly away from home, and would not be able to see me
aboard, as he had intended. `However,' said he, `the captain knows you
are coming, so that's not of much consequence; but as you'll have to
find the ship yourself, you must remember her name and description.
D'ye hear, boy?' I certainly did hear, but I'm afraid I did not
understand; for my mind was so taken up with the game, which I saw my
side was losing, that I began to grow impatient, and the moment my uncle
finished his description of the ship and bade me good-bye I bolted back
to my game, with only a confused idea of three masts, and a
green-painted taffrail, and a gilt figurehead of Hercules with his club
at the bow. Next day I was so much cast down with everybody saying
good-bye, and a lot o' my female friends cryin' horribly over me, that I
did not start for the harbour, where the ship was lying among a thousand
others, till it was almost too late. So I had to run the whole way.
When I reached the pier, there were so many masts, and so much
confusion, that I felt quite humble-bumbled in my faculties. `Now,'
said I to myself, `Peterkin, you're in a fix.' Then I fancied I saw a
gilt figurehead and three masts belonging to a ship just about to start;
so I darted on board, but speedily jumped on shore again when I found
that two of the masts belonged to another vessel and the figurehead to a
third! At last I caught sight of what I made sure was it--a fine large
vessel just casting off her moorings. The taffrail was green. Three
masts--yes, that must be it--and the gilt figurehead of Hercules. To be
sure, it had a three-pronged pitchfork in its hand instead of a club;
but that might be my uncle's mistake, or perhaps Hercules sometimes
varied his weapons. `Cast off!' roa