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 respect of every one aboard. “When he likes,” too, I was informed, “the old man can say what he likes, an’ mean it too, and no mistake about it!” I could say a good deal more concerning Captain Fletcher; and I only do not say it because his eye may possibly fall upon these words, and I have no desire to endanger, by falling foul of that stern modesty which is another of his characteristics, a friendship won during that trip upon the Tikirau, and, I am proud to believe, flourishing still.

Next, Mr. Black, the mate—a square-set little cockney, rough in appearance, somewhat gruff of speech, all at sea as to his “h’s” and of a nature most hot-hearted and impulsive. “Jolly funny,” I learned, could Mr. Black be, when he “had a full cargo aboard”; and I did not doubt it, although happy to be spared the entertainment. On the other hand, he was easily the most domesticated sailor I have ever met. Without the faintest hesitation, it appeared, he had at a week’s notice dashed into marriage with the widowed mother of a large family, and to use his own words, “hadn’t never looked back on it neither.” “W’en we was spliced, wot’s more, we ’adn’t no more than a one arf crown between us!” he added, and seemed to think this was the crowning triumph.

“Most imprudent!” said I.

“Imprudent?” said he. “Tell you w’at. That’s twelve year ago, that is, an’ I on’y wishes it was twenty-four.” The heartiness of his tone explained these somewhat ambiguous words as a noble tribute to Mrs. Black. “Now, you jest look a-here, an’ berlieve me,” he went on with emphasis. “Merriage, w’y—merriage is orl right, I tell yer!”