Citation
The good sailor boy, or The adventures of Charley Morant

Material Information

Title:
The good sailor boy, or The adventures of Charley Morant
Portion of title:
Adventures of Charley Morant
Creator:
Sunshine, Mercie
Ward, Lock, and Co ( Publisher )
Hazell, Watson & Viney ( Printer )
Place of Publication:
London
Publisher:
Ward, Lock, & Co.
Manufacturer:
Hazell, Watson, and Viney
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
163 p., [1] leaf of plates : ill. ; 18 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Christian life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Sailors -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Friendship -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Storms -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Courage -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Slaves -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Gold mines and mining -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1882
Genre:
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
England -- London
England -- Aylesbury
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Date of publication from colophon: 9-82.
Statement of Responsibility:
by Mercie Sunshine.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026978493 ( ALEPH )
ALH8708 ( NOTIS )
240302724 ( OCLC )

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The Baldwin Library

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HENRY “STONE
+. W STRAITS:







Preparing for action. Frontispiece,



THE
GOOD SAILOR BOY;

Che Adbentures of Charley Morant,

BY

MERCIE SUNSHINE

AUTHOR OF “DOTTIE AND TOTTIE,” ETO., ETC., ETC.



London:
WARD, LOCK, AND Co.,
“Warwick Hovusz, Sarispury Square, E.O,





Hazell, Watson, and Viney, Printers, London and Aylesbury.





























































































PREFACKH.
er

\ HE following account of Charley
Morant’s Adventures Afloat and Ashore
needs little Preface. But one word
of explanation is necessary. The Tale,
“ which was originally written in French, has
be been adapted to English scenes and English
manners by



Mencre SUNSHINE.





CONTENTS



CHAP. PAGE
I, LANDSECCOMBE—THE MORANT FAMILY —

CHARLEY—THE HORNED SHEEP . 5 : 1

II, LITTLE FANNY—A MISADVENTURE ; . 12

Ill. A NEW ARRIVAL—THE BOX OF TOYS—
CHARLEY IS MISSED . . . : . 28

IV. CHARLEY IS RELEASED—JOB LITTLE VAN-
QUISHES THE FARMER AND PUTS HIM IN

THE POND . : ‘ ‘ - 29
v. A FISHING EXCURSION . : : ‘ . 86
VI. GOING OUT FISHING—THE STORM—DEVOTION

OF JOB. ‘ : . ‘ ‘ j - 46

VII. JOB’S RETURN—CHARLEY CHOOSES A PROFES-

SION—THE “JOHN BROWN” : , . 58
VIII. CHARLEY GOES AWAY WITH JOB—CAPTAIN
THOMPSON—CHARLEY LEAVES ENGLAND . 64
IX. THE “JOHN BROWN ’’—LIFE ON BOARD SHIP
—CHABLEY’S FIRST EXPERIENCES—BEE-
NARD’S PRACTICAL JOKES . % : - - 13
X. CHARLEY MAKES A NEW ACQUAINTANCE—
CROSSING THE LINE—OLD FATHER- NEP-
TUNE AND HIS COURT COME ON BOARD . 80
XI. THE STORM—MAN OVERBOARD—COURAGE OF
CHARLEY MORANT—RIO JANEIRO . 85

XII, THE NEGROES—THE IRON MASK—JOURNEY
INTO THE INTERIOR . 7 ‘ . - 98



viii
CHAP.
XIII.

XIy.

XY.

XVI.

XVII.

AVIII.

XIX,

XX.

XXI.

CONTENTS.

TUE EXPEDITION—A HORRIBLE BEDFELLOW
—ROAST SERPENT . . . . .

SANTA ESPERANZA—A COFFEE-FARM—BER-
NARD AND THE SNAKE—BUENA VISTA—
IN THE WOODS --MYSTERIOUS DISA PPEAR-
ANCE OF THE GUIDE . . .

A NIGHT IN THE WOODS—THE RUNAWAY
SLAVES—MADE PRISONERS—THE NEGRO
CAMP —CRITICAL POSITION OF THE
WHITES . . . . . . .

A GRATEFUL NEGRO—ESCAPE OF CHARLEY
—THE IGUANA—THE OUNCE- FRIENDS
AND FOOD . . . . . . .

THE MARCH TO THE CAMP—THE ATTACK—
ROUT OF THE NEGROES—BRAVE CHARLEY
—HE PAYS HIS DEBT TO MORABE . .

A GLIMPSE AT LANDSECCOMBE — MRS.
MORANT'S ILLNESS—GOOD NEWS FROM
SEA, . . . . . . .

SAN FRANCISCO—THE GOLD FEVER—DESER-
TION OF BERNARD AND SAWYER—DIS-
COVERY OF GOLD—WORKING IN THE
MINES . . . . . . .

THE TWO ADVENTURERS — THE BUSH-
RANGERS—DEATH OF JACK SAWYER—
BERNARD IN DANGER . . .

HOME AGAIN—CHARLEY’S FRIENDS—PRO-
JECTS—CHARLEY IS MARRIED—A HAPPY
ENDING . . . . .



PAGE

98°

105

113

119

126

133

141

150

158























THE GOOD SAILOR BOY;

Ohe Adventures of Charley orant,

Reena eee
CHAPTER I.

LANDSECCOMBE—THE MORANT FAMILY—CHARLEY
—THE HORNED SHEEP.

NTHONY MORANT, Charley’s father, had
been a sailor on board one of the old
* wooden-walls,” as we used to call the ships of our
English Navy before ironclads, with their ugly tur-
rets, came into fashion. But being discharged on
account of ill-health, resulting from an injury while‘
afloat, Anthony had returned to his native village
situated on the south coast of England, and there
had married, and settled down as a fisherman at
Landseccombe.

1



ie LANDSECCOMBE.

This little village is situated almost on the sea
hore, and at the time of which we are writing,
consisted of about forty houses, principally occu-
pied by fishermen and their families. There was
a chapel which was well attended on Sundays if
the fish did not enter the bay, for then the men
went after the fish, and deserted the house of God
' to procure their means of livelihood.

But taking them altogether, the men were honest
and well-conducted. No unseemly brawls dis-
turbed the community; they were, as a rule, sober
and well-mannered, and if a quarrel did now and
then arise, it was honestly and fairly fought out,
and no ill-feeling shown by word or deed after the
fight was over.

If the men of the village were well-behaved,
the women were industrious. The houses were all
clean and neat, plainly furnished, and seemed com-
fortable. Some had small gardens attached to
them, the borders ornamented with shells placed
by the children, and culttvated diligently to raise
a few vegetables. Sunflowers, or some such grand
flowering plants, were occasionally visible, and
simple creepers wound about the latticed windows
and the ever-open doors.

Anthony Morant’s house was larger than many
of theothers; he also had a garden and a sort of
paddock, wherein grazed a cow, and two goats



THE MORANT FAMILY. 8

enjoyed life, except when they were chased by the
children, to be captured finally, and made to draw
a roughly-made cart upon the slip of sandy beach
below the high-water mark. You see Anthony
was, so to speak, a rich man. His fishing-boat was
the best. in the community, while he had the repu-
tation of being one of the most skilful fishers of his
time. His wife Marian was a good housekeeper ;
his home was always pleasant, and in short he was
as “happy asa king,” and very likely happier.

In due time the household increased, and three
children made their appearance in the following
order: Charley, the eldest, a great big baby, who
very soon was able to run alone; after a year or
two a dear little girl appeared, and they called her
Jenny; and then after a time another girl, who was
called Rose. These three children soon ran about
all over the garden and down to the beach, and ,
burrowed into the sand like so many marmots.
They were fine, healthy children, and all the old
people said they had never -seen their like
before.

They all helped in the house, and of a stormy
night one of them would light a candle early and
place it in the window, so that “father” might see.
the gleam. And he, running in to land in the
driving rain-or snow, or tossed by the great waves,
would catch sight of the tiny beacon as he ap-



4 LANDSECCOMBE.

proached, which winked at him as much as to say,
“Come in quickly—everything is ready for you.
We have a capital fire and a jolly supper inside
here. Your chair is waiting, and feels quite empty
without you. Your wife is anxious for you, and
somebody has dropped in to supper to welcome
_ you. back, and the children are looking out for you
through the darkness.”

This is what the blinking flame seemed to say
to Anthony as he entered the little harbour, and
ran alongside the jetty in the autumn and winter
evenings.

But afterwards, when the children had grown
older, they would go down to meet their father
when he came home from his: fishing. On these
grand occasions Jenny and Rosie would scramble
into his arms, and Charley, perched always on his
father’s neck, would chatter with Rose, as he
regarded with apprehension the great claw of a
lobster protruding from the fish-basket on which
he was seated.

At the time we commence our story Charley was
nine years old. He was strong for his age, but
heavy and dull; so much so, that the neighbours
had nicknamed him Lazy-bones. He ate a great
deal, worked very little, and reflected not at all. In
other respects he was a good boy: he loved his
parents, always told the truth, and was incapable of







































































































































































































































































































































































































































‘They would scramble into his arms” ( zage 4).



6 LANDSECCOMBE.

injuring anyone by word or deed. His great and
absorbing idea was to become a sailor. Meantime
he learnt to swim like a fish, to climb like a squirrel,
and feared nothing except the tricks and gibes of
‘ his sister Jenny.

For that young lady, though apparently small for
her age of seven years, was already a useful little
body ; she could sew and knit, and was of very
great assistance to her mother in all household
matters. But notwithstanding all these occupa-
tions, she still had time to tease Charley, and to
play him a hundred tricks, which showed him
that weakness might sometimes overcome force in
repose. Charley would fly into useless passions,
and devise all kinds of plans to outwit her, but he
never gained the “ honours,” nor could he even win
“by tricks” from his clever sister. Besides, he
found another opponent in little Rosie, who was
then four years old, and very winning. She would
throw her arms round him if he got angry, and he
was obliged to give in, for he could not resist her
attack. '

As he grew older, Charley was appointed care-
taker of the cow and the two goats, and a certain
norned sheep. In this work he had the assistance
of a great dog, which he named “ Nigger,” because
it was so black.

Nigger and Charley were great friends, Both



THE ECCENTRIC SHEEP. 7

had a weakness for the sheep, which was one of
the most vicious and eccentric animals in the world.
But she was also a beast of spirit, and quite able to
take her own part, particularly her part of the food,
which was generally the largest share. This was ©
not fair, certainly, and Charley rather regretted his
partiality when he saw the animal, somewhat more
than usually restive, turn her back and a deaf ear

_to all his appeals, and butt in a grotesquely half-
playful manner if “Nigger” approached. Unfor-
tunately, both boy and dog enjoyed these little pranks,
and so the sheep never amended her ways.

One morning, as Anthony was going out to fish,
he looked into Charley’s room, and found the little
man’s eyes wide open.

“‘ What! awake already!” exclaimed the fisher-
man.

“Take me with you, father,” cried the boy. “I
want to go out with you and manage the boat.”

“ Goodness me! Why, four or five years hence
will be time enough for you to think of that. But
you may come and help me carry the nets if you
like.”

Charley was quickly ready, and father and son
were soon joined by two other fishermen, Anthony’s
usual companions. They found the boat high and
dry upon the shingle, but she was soon got afloat,
by means of rollers and a hawser ; and thus, as she



8 LANDSECCOMBE.

rose and fell with the gentle swell, the sails were
shaken out and hoisted ;

“ Look here,” said one of the sailors to Charley,
“do you see that ships and barques have three
masts—the fore, the main, and the mizzen. The

’ foremost in front, the main in the centre, and the
mizzen at the stern. The spars crossing them are
‘the yards, and we hoist the sails by sheets and blocks.
You must remember this if you wish to be fit for a
sailor.”

“T am going to be a sailor,” replied Charley de-
cidedly, “and I know that already. I can tell the
bow from the stern; the prow from the poop; I
know that, starboard is right, port is left—larboard
some call it.”

“The boy is no fool,” muttered the man; and
old Anthony felt very gratified at hearing his son
praised by the other fishermen.

“J wish you would take me with you, father,’
said Charley. “I will be so good. Please do!”

But his father reminded the boy that he had the
cattle to look after, and wondered what the cow and
the goats would do all day if he did not appear.
What would “ Nigger” think? For the fishermen
did not expect to return till night, and that was
sooner than usual, for they were often absent two
or three days. Rose could not attend to the cattle,
because she was afraid of the eccentric sheep already



OFF TO PASTURE. 9

mentioned, and Jenny had her household work to
attend.to. Hach child had his or her allotted tasks,
So Charley, with a sigh, resigned himself to his
father’s decision, and contented himself with watch-
ing the boat till it was nearly out of sight in the
offing, and then he turned sadly homewards.

When he came within sight of the cottage he
perceived Rosie sitting outside munching a great
slice of bread and butter. Four or five hens had
gathered round her, picking up the fragments which
she occasionally let fall, and clucking vigorously
when she withheld the tempting morsels. The
sight of this excellent bread and butter made Charley
forget his disappointment, and he hastened into the
house feeling as hungry as a hunter.

“J knew Charley would not be long absent from
_ breakfast,” cried Jenny, half maliciously.

“Well, why should I be?” he retorted, in no way
ashamed of his opinions and appetite, as he pro-
ceeded to help himself to a very substantial slice of
bread and butter. This he immediately attacked so
voraciously that his mother had some difficulty in
finding an unbuttered spot near his mouth upon
which to kiss him!

“Now,” she said, “make haste and let the cows
and goats out; you see ‘ Nigger’ is quite impatient
to be off.”

“Nigger” seemed to be quite of Mrs. Morant’s



10 LANDSECCOMBE.

opinion, for he jumped about and barked loudly,
even pulling Charley’s trowsers in his anxiety. So
the lad nodded assent to his mother, for his mouth
was too full for speech, and followed the dog to
the shed.

Charley was not the only hungry one. The
eccentric sheep was also fasting, and had already
wreaked her vengeance upon the door, which she
was still butting furiously when Charley approached.
The goats were more patient but anxious, and even
the cow was moaning distressfully.

And now an accident befel the lazy one. No
sooner had he opened the door than the sheep
darted furiously out, and sent Charley rolling over
on the ground. His cherished bread and butter
flew out of his hand; and when he arose, furious,
to reclaim it, he found that the watchful hens had
pounced upon it, and were even then pecking at it

n all the enjoyment of fresh bread and butter. The

culprit escaped Charley’s vengeance ; but “Nigger”
was not inclined to let him off so easily. The dog
pursued the offender and bit his hind legs, as a
gentle reminder that “butting” his young master
was not proper conduct on the ‘part even of a
horned sheep. Off darted the goats; but the cow,
being of a more equable temperament, and of a
placid disposition, walked calmly to the gate in no
hurry to commence her breakfast, apparently.



LAZY-BONES: il

Charley brought up the rear; he knew it was
useless to pursue the sheep and “ Nigger”; and ten
minutes later he quietly sat down upon a heap of
stones to wait for his charges, which began grazing
quietly, while “‘Lazy-bones” sat still and watched
them, as they slowly passed on towards the pad-
dock.







































































































CHAPTER II.

LITTLE FANNY—4. MISADVENTURE,

T was early in May, and the fresh flowers
were nodding their heads to the soft breeze,
as Charley lazily munched his breakfast while re-
clining upon the grass. As he was thus pleasantly
occupied, a little girl of six or seven years old hap-
pened to pass by. She was a ragged little girl,
too; her feet were bare, her hair was matted and
tangled, and fell over her shoulders from beneath
an old black hat. She stopped before the lad as
he lay, and her large dark eyes fixed themselves
longingly upon the great crust that Charley was
just then breakfasting upon.
“ Ah! you have something to eat,” she muttered, as
shewiped away atear which had gathered on her cheek.
We are reluctantly obliged to confess that
Charley’s first impulse was to hide the remainder of
his breakfast. The little girl noticed the movement,
and sighing, turned away, saying, “I am not going
to steal your bread and butter; you needn’t beafraid !”













































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































“She stopped before the lad as he lay” (paye 12).



14 LITTLE FANNY.

17?

“ T’m not afraid,” replied Charley. ‘Look here
he cried.

The girl turned round and came back.

“«¢ Where are you going to?” asked Charley, as he
opened a sixpenny knife and gave it a preparatory
flourish, while he made up his mind as to dividing
his bread and butter.

“Tam going to the village,” she replied.

“ What for?”

“To beg, I suppose.”

“Has your mother no breakfast to give you this
morning ? ” asked Charley in a tone of surprise.

“T have no mother and no father,” replied the
little girl, beginning to cry.

“Wait a minute,” said Charley. As he spoke he
cut the huge crust in half; but he kept the most
“buttery” portion for himself. “What is your
name?” he continued, as the little girl began to
eat ravenously. ;

“Fanny.. What’s yours?”

“ Charley,” replied that individual.

Fanny, at this, seated herself upon the grass
beside the lad, saying, ‘‘ You are a very kind boy, |
Charley. Thank you very much.”

“Hold hard!” exclaimed Charley, rather con-
science-stricken when he thought of the dry part
he had given away ; “‘ take this.”

He cut off another, and the most * buttery ” por-



THE BEGGAR-GIRL, 15

tion this time, and handed the bread to Fanny in a
most patronising manner, feeling that on this occa-
sion, at any rate, he had done more than his duty.

“Tsay, this is good, ain’t it?” said the little
wanderer.

“T believe you,” replied Charley, nodding with
his mouth full. “Are you cold?” he asked,
noticing that his companion shivered a little.

“Yes, rather,” she replied.

“That's funny. Why, I’m not a bit cold.”

“ You've gotwarm clothes on; Ihave onlya ragged
dress and a petticoat,” she said with a shiver.

“T say, if you like we'll dig a hole and make a
fire, then you can warm yourself. Shall we?”

Fanny assented at once. She desired nothing
better. ‘That will be fine,” she replied as she
got up.

“All right then. Do you go and fetch some
wood, and I will dig the hole.”

“ But how will you dig it?” she said; pausing

“ With my knife, of course,” he replied.

Reanimated by the prospect, Fanny quickly
gathered some dried grass and twigs; Charley, in
the meantime, digging industriously in the sandy
soil. Fanny soon came back, and as she threw her
burthen on the ground, said,—

“How are you going to light the fire, after all?”

Charley straightened himself, and pointing with



16 LITTLE FANNY.

his knife, said, “Do you see that chimney over
there? That’s Peter Kenny’s farm. Well, you
must go and get some hot cinders from. the kitchen.”

“ But I can’t carry hot cinders.”

“Yes you can, in your.shoe, in sand.”

“JT haven’t got any shoes,” she replied.

“Why not?” asked Charley as he gazed at her
naked feet.

“Because I have no money to buy them,” she
answered rather sadly.

“Take mine then,” he said, kicking off one of
his thick shoes, ‘Don’t be long !”

Fanny ran off as fast as her thin little legs would
carry her, and after along time she returned with
Charley’s shoe, smoking with its load of hot cin-
ders. She appeared angry and excited.

“Those unkind people,” she said, “treated me
very badly; they wouldn’t let me have the cinders
at first, and called me names.”

Charley was rather surprised at this, for Farmer
’ Kenny was a very good-natured man, and often
gave him facilities for lighting a fire.

“That's funny,” was all he said however, as he
was just then busily engaged in blowing the warm
cinders into a blaze with the dry wood.

In a few moments the twigs had caught fire, and
soon blazed merrily.

“Now you can warm yourself,” said Charley, as



MAKING A FIRE. 17

he pushed the girl towards the blaze. “Can’t I
make a jolly fire, eh? Alan, the farmer’s son,
taught me to do this.”

“‘ Where do you live?” asked Fanny, as she held
out her hands over the blaze.

“Do you see that smoke rising yonder, eh?
Well then, my home is underneath it. Where's
yours?”

“T have no home,” she replied.

“Where do you sleep then? ”

“Tn the fields.”

“What do you have for your dinner?” asked
Charley, somewhat surprised again.

“Whatever I can get—when I can get anything
at all, that is.”

“Oh!” was all Charley’s comment, for the idea
of no dinner set him thinking.

“What are you thinking of?” said Fanny at
last.

“Look here,” said Charley, without replying to
her question, “I am going to dinner at twelve
o'clock. You shall come with me, and my mother
will give you some bread and milk—perhaps some
cockles, if we have any.”

“Tm afraid your mother will turn me away,’
said Fanny plaintively.

“Oh no!” exclaimed Charley; “ she- never
sends poor people away from the house. . One day

2



18 LITTLE FANNY.

Nigger—that’s my dog—bit a poor beggar, and my
mother gave the dog such a licking! Nigger ‘got’
it, I can tell you! In running away, he jumped
right upon the cat and her kittens, and gota
scratching there too. You should have seen Nigger
rubbing his nose after Miss Puss had scratched
him.”

Charley began to laugh as the comical appearance
of Nigger recurred to him, and the dog, which had
heard his name, came up just then and rubbed his
head against the lad’s knees.

While the two children smilingly caressed him,
a farmer who lived near at hand happened to pass by.

“What are you about there, lad?” he asked,
noticing the fire.

“Tm trying to warm this little girl,
Charley. ‘‘She’s very cold.”

“Good lad,” replied the man. “ Here, take these
and roast them,” he added, as he took half-a-dozen
large potatoes from a sack he carried. “Good day
tye!”

“Oh! thank you, Mr. Porter,” cried Charley,
delighted to receive this accession to his breakfast;
and he at once put the potatoes amongst the cinders
to roast.

While they were cooking, Charley and his little
companion continued chatting, and divided their
entire attention between the potatoes and the con-

”

replied



A PIC-NIC BREAKFAST. : 19

versation, so that the animals were completely for-
gotten. The white cow broke through the hedge,
in search of fresh fields and pastures new, and the
black goat was soon after her, enjoying a meal from
the young shoots of a neighbour’s trees. . And all
this time Nigger was so interested in his young
master’s conversation, that neither did he turn his
head to see how his charges were getting on.

This negligence was destined to have very un-
pleasant consequences for Charley, and, indeed,
for all the party; for the neighbouring farm had
only changed hands the day before, a cross-
grained tenant having come into possession in-
stead of the good-natured farmer who indulged
Charley so much. But Charley did not know this‘
and went on questioning his little friend with all
a child’s bluntness.

“Where do you come from?” he asked.

“From Lanceton,” replied Fanny.

“What was your father? Mine is a fisherman.”

“T never knew father nor mother ; old Peggy told
me they were drowned in a shipwreck.”

“ Who is old Peggy?”

“A poor woman in Lanceton who took care
of me.”

“Why isn’t she with you now ?” said Charley.

“She died—eight days ago!” sobbed Fanny.

“Ah!” replied Charley. Then he added



20 _ LITTLE FANNY.

philosophically, “ Well—but I say, there’s no
more wood!”

“She used to beat me sometimes,” continued
Fanny, sobbing ; “ but only when she had had too
much cider.”

“Well, you needn’t cry now because she used to
. beat you,” said Charley. ‘There’s no wood, I tell -
you.”

“T loved her all the same,” said the girl, without
heeding the interruption. “She was not really
unkind at other times, and it is so sad to be all
alone !”

“ Ah, it is rather a bore! But the wood is all
gone.”

Fanny got up at this and entered the neighbour-
ing plantation in search of some dead branches.
But she soon came running back, crying out, “Oh
Charley, quicy! the cow is in the clover-field.”

“ And the goats too?” inquired Charley, anxiously,
as he rose to his. feet

Yes, it was too true! Charley and Nigger
immediately ran off to reclaim the trespassers, and
Fanny naturally followed. But it was too late. A
great heavy lout about twenty came up, armed with
a great stick, and began to beat the poor cow most
unmercifully. Then suddenly perceiving Charley, he
ran at him, seized him by the collar, and thrashed
him in a most cowardly way. Itis true that Charley



“ TUB COW'S IN THE CLOVER!” £1

retaliated as well as he could, but his strength was
not equal to his desires. The eccentric sheep was
also of this opinion, evidently, for with a sudden
rush he came up behind the farm lad, and witha
vigorous shove of his horned head sent him spraw-
ling upon his face. Charley took advantage of the
opportunity and fled, but was quickly recaptured.
Then Fanny, weak as she was, came up bravely to
her new friend’s assistance. But, poor child! sh®
soon received a cuff which almost knocked her
down.

“ Ah! you young scamp,” cried the lout, who was
the farmer’s son, “T’ll teach you to let your cattle
graze in our fields.”

“Tet him go,’ zaticd Fanny; “ he will never let
them stray again.”

Charley said nothing. Proud like the young
Briton he was, he disdained to sue for mercy.
Nevertheless he was horribly frightened, and
trembled visibly when the farmer’s son, taking him
him up under his arm, carried him towards the farm,

Meantime Nigger, having gathered the cattle -
together, appeared upon the field of battle. . As the
sheep had done, he at once hastened to his master’s
rescue, and bit the farmer’s heels sharply; but un
fortunately the pain only served to enrage the
farmer still more, and he buffeted Charley leat!
till he called the dog off.



22 LITTLE FANNY.

“Tl lock you up in the cellar, my lad, and keep
you there for.a while without food or water; and
if you utter a sound Tl lick you! Hold your
tongue, do you hear?”

So thus poor Charley was sareiod to the farm,
followed by Fanny, Nigger, and the sheep at a
respectful distance from the man’s stick. As he
was thrust into the cellar, Charley made a desperate
effort to escape, but he gained nothing by it but
blows. The farmer’s son shoved him in, and then
let loose the watch-dog at poor Nigger. Although not
half the size of his enemy, Nigger defended himself:
valiantly, but was obliged to succumb at last,
greatly to the crue] man’s delight; and the poor
dog would have been killed if Fanny had not
boldly released him. Then recollecting that Charley’s
house was near the smoke she saw rising not far
off, she hastened thither as fast as she could.
Nigger, divining her thoughts, followed her; and
the cow and the other animals, which recognized
Nigger as their master’s lieutenant, followed more
slowly in the same direction,









CHAPTER III.

A NEW ARRIVAL—THE BOX OF TOYS—CHARLEY IS
MISSED.

E must now return to the house, where a
person had arrived who subsequently in-
fluenced Charley’s fortunes not a little.

“Does Anthony Morant live here?”. the
stranger cried, pulling up his horse at the door.

“Yes, sir,” replied Jenny, who was washing
some shell-fish.

“Ts he at home?”

“No, sir.”

“Ts your mother within?”

“Yes, sir; father is gone fishing.”

Just then Mrs. Morant appeared, and added that
her \husband would probably return _ that
evening.

“ All the better,” said the new comer, as he got
off his horse. “My name, ma/am, is Job Little
—an old messmate.”

“Oh! T’ve often heard Anthony speak of you,”

























“A collection of toys made their appearance” (page 26),



THE BOX OF TOYS. 25

cried Mrs. Morant. ‘You were on board the
Bellona, wer’n’t you?”

“T was, ma’am,” replied Job. “I’m glad Tony
hasn’t forgot me.”

“He often talks about you. Won’t you come
in? You are heartily welcome!”

Job Little dismounted, and hitching the bridle
over the palings, entered the cottage, where he was
speedily supplied with a jug of cider and some
simple food. While he was enjoying his lunch
with all the appetite of a man in robust health, he
made inquiries concerning his old friend.

“J thought you had three children,” he said, as
he gazed at the two little girls, who had by this
time become friendly (they had been rather shy at
first).

“So we have,” replied Mrs. Morant. “Charley
is out in the fields looking after the cows. He will
come back to dinner, you may depend upon that.
He never forgets dinner-time.”

“The reason I enquired is because as I came
along I purchased a few things for the young ones‘
and Charley must have his share, I see the box has
just arrived.”

“ Oh, let’s see them!” cried Rosie, as she caught
hold of the sailor’s arm in her delighted anticipation,

“We must wait for Charley, I think,” said Mrs.
Morant, smiling.



26 JOB LITTLE,

But sailors are very fond of children, and Job

Little could not resist the girl’s importunities. So
"he went to fetch the box which Jenny endeavoured
to lift and carry into the house.

“ Ah! that’s too heavy for you, my lassie,—let
-me bear a hand.” And thus the box was carried in
and placed in the centre of the room.

The opening ceremony was performed amid
breathless silence. A collection of toys made their
appearance and were quickly distributed, greatly
to the delight of -the little girls, who embraced -
the kind giver again and again, thanking him
heartily. ,

“What are you looking for?” he said at last,
noticing that Jenny was examining the box with
anxious eyes.

“I was trying to see whether there was anything
left for Charley,” replied Jenny. “Is there?”

“You are a good little girl,” replied the sailor.
“Don’t be afraid. We shall not forget brother
Charley.”

While the children were still admiring the toys,
and their mother was busy preparing dinner,
Nigger suddenly rushed in, one ear bleeding
from his late encounter. Instantly all was bustle,
and Mrs. Morant exclaimed, “Oh my. goodness!
something has happened to Charley!”

* Poor Nigger, how worried he looks!” said



TO THE RESCUE! 27

Jenny, stroking the dog, which licked her hands
caressingly.

Mrs. Morant was out of the cottage in a ates
and on her way along the path, when she suddenly
ran against poor little Fan.

“Is this the house where Charley’s parents
live?” she panted out, now out of breath with her
exertions.

“Yes, my child; what has happened to my
son? ‘Tell me quickly.”

Little Fan then related the facts of the case,
and:as she spoke under the excitement of the ad-
venture, Mrs. Morant’s fears were by no means
abated.

“Ah!” cried the good woman. “I have heard
that those new comers were not the best people in
the world, but I did not think they would hurt my
little son,—the wretches! I'l go up to the farm at
once.”

“No,” cried Job, who had come out and heard
the story. “Tl go: do you remain where you
are.”

But she insisted upon going to look for Charley,
and then Job said to Fanny, “ You can remain till
we come back, my girl.”

“No,” she replied ; “TI will go with you, because
if the wicked man should say that Charley is not
in the cellar, I shall be able to contradict him.”



28 SOB LITTLE.

“But suppose he should strike you?” said
Marian Morant.

“Well, it would not be the first time it has
occurred.” ;

“Tt shall not occur again if I am there,” ex-
claimed Job Little angrily. “ Well, come along!”

So, preceded by Nigger, who ran occasionally
upon only three legs, and accompanied by Mrs.
Morant and Fanny, Job set out to release Charley
from his unpleasant situation.

















































CHAPTER IV.

CHARLEY IS RELEASED—JOB LITTLE VANQUISHES
THE FARMER AND PUTS HIM IN THE POND.

O one will affirm that it is an agreeable
experience to be shut up in a narrow
passage without light or food, and no prospect of
getting anything to eat or drink for four-and-
twenty hours! At least Charley did not appreciate
the situation ; but even his natural anger, and the
fear he was in of being kept a prisoner, did not
prevent him from knowing, from painful internal
evidence, that dinner-time had arrived. He thought
also of those delicious potatoes so nicely arranged
amid the ashes. They must be beautifully cooked
by this time, he thought, and how nice it would
have been to have shared them with little Fan!

In the midst of his gastronomic fancies Charley
did not forget certain other and more serious subjects.
He recalled with terror the farmer’s great stick, which
had resounded upon the poor cow’s flanks, and he re-
membered thegreatdog. Supposeitshouldfly athim !



30 THE CRUEL FARMER,

This last thought disturbed the poor lad very
much, and as the dog continued barking he trembled
violently; and when the animal came scratching at the
door of the cellar, Charley actually cried out interror.

“Will you hold your tongue!” exclaimed Mat-

‘thew the farmer, as he flourished a flail. “If you
don’t cease I'll throw you into the horse-pond.”
Charley was not anxious to fall into the company
of the geese and ducks, that were just then swim-
ming about in it, so he decided to hold his tongue
as he was bidden. But his fears were soon aroused
once more. The dog began to bark violently.

“What is it, boy?” said the farmer. ,But the
dog continued growling savagely, for he had seen
Nigger approaching, followed by Mrs. Morant,
Job, and the little girl.

“There he is!” cried Fan. “That is the naughty
man who put Charley in the cellar over there,” she
added, as she pointed to it, “and there is the big
dog too.”

“All right,” replied Job, “Tl have a word or
two with him.”

' “Oh, no! don’t go and quarrel,” cried Mrs:
Morant. “Let me speak to him first.”

“Very well,” replied Job. “Go first.”

Unfortunately for Mrs. Morant’s pacific mten-
tions, Nigger and the other dog rushed at each
other, and were speedily locked in a deadly strug-



CHARLEY IN PRISON. 31

gle. As in the previous encounter, poor Nigger
came off second best, and would have been strangled
by his ferocious enemy had not Job interfered.

“Call off your dog!” exclaimed the sailor to the
farmer, who was laughing at Nigger’s peril. But
instead of doing so, the man incited him still more.
So Job took up a thick flail handle, and wielded it
so vigorously upon the fierce brute, that he was
fain to let Nigger go, and rushed upon his new
assailant, who was quite equal to the occasion, and
with a few severe blows put the dog to flight.

“Leave my dog alone, you!” roared the farmer.

Job replied as angrily, and would have perhaps
proceeded to administer correction to the owner
of the dog had not Mrs. Morant stopped him.

“Sir,” said. she to the farmer, “JI have come
hither in search of my son, whom you have shut
up in the cellar.”

“Ah! so you're there, are you!” cried Matthew
shaking his fist at Fan, who retreated behind Job
for protection; and just then Charley, recognizing
his mother’s voice, called out,—

“Help, mother! Help, help!”

The poor mother hastened to release her boy,
but Matthew barred the way, and raised his arm as
she attempted to pass. In a moment he was seized
in an iron grasp, and his arm was gripped so
tightly that he was fain to cry for mercy.



32 THE CRUEL FARMER,

“Look here, let us talk over matters quietly,”
said Job, without letting go. “Noneof that! No,
you don’t stir!”

So while Matthew was making out an imaginary
case of damage done by the cows, Mrs. Morant had
- released Charley, who rushed into herarms. His
nose and face still showed traces of the rough
usage he had received.

“How could you have the heart to beat such a
child as he is?” cried the angry mother, as she
wiped poor Charley’s bruised face. Like all people
who have no good reasons to give, Matthew talked at
random, and spoke of the injury done to his fields.

“Tet us: talk this over quietly,” said Job, who
was never more angry than when he said this.
“« What do you value your loss at?”

“ Over half-a-sovereign,” replied the sulky farmer.

“ Nonsense!” retorted Mrs. Morant. ‘ Why, all
the animals in a whole day would not eat two_
shillings’ worth of clover.”

“Here, we'll settle it for half-a-crown,” said the
sailor, as he handed the farmer the money; which
was gladly taken, for it was not bad pay for no-
thing at all.

“And now, my fine fellow,’ said Job, “I’m
going to pay another debt.. I’m going to return
to you those blows you gave that boy—d’ye hear?”

“He threw stones at me,” cried Matthew, who,



CEL FOL

PSEA IID

SO
TO A

SSIS y Sy
SDSS
Li; z SEs



































































































































“ He set upon Matthew” (page 34).



34 THE CRUEL FARMER.

seeing Job taking off his coat and turning up his
sleeves, was not likely to misunderstand him.

“That is not true!” exclaimed Charley and
Fanny simultaneously. Carried away by his anger
Matthew launched a blow at the little girl. At this
Job could no longer restrain himself; he set upon
Matthew and pommelled him vigorously. The
latter, though the younger and taller man, had no
chance against the sturdy sailor, and in a very few
minutes the coward cried for quarter.

Just as Job was giving him a parting blow, a
servant appeared from the farm, and Matthew
called out,—

“Here, Frank! Come here, help!”

“Take care, Job!” cried Mrs. Morant, as tho
servant approached.

Job took the hint and rose. Then dragging
Matthew to his feet, he twirled him violently
round, and propelled him against the servant with
tremendous. force. Neither were able to recover
themselves, and they rolled over and fell plump
into the pond close by, greatly to the astonishment
of the ducks and geese.

Notwithstanding her anxiety, Mrs. Morant could
not help smiling as she saw the men scrambling
and clutching at one another in their vain attempts
to save themselves. When they at last emerged,
dripping, from the pond, they presented an in-



IN THE DUCK-POND! 35

describable appearance. Matthew, seeing Job
advancing with the flail-handle, thought it best to
beat a hasty retreat to the house immediately. He
was not followed.





































































CHAPTER V.

A FISHING EXCURSION,

OW, my lad,” said Job to the servant,

whom Mrs. Morant had known for a long

time,—‘“‘ now, my lad, let’s have a word. I didn’t ©

mean to hurt you, and itis hard that you should
suffer for such a master as yours.”

The domestic had already had cause to regret
his treatment by the farmer, but the wetting he
had undergone still rankled in his mind.

“Look at the state your master has left my child
in,” cried Mrs. Morant, as she indicated Charley’s
swollen face.

“He has hurt me very much, Frank,” added
Charley.

“Poor little fellow!” said Frank, the peasant
who had often made whistles and little whips for
Charley.

Then Mrs. Morant, in order to make amends for
his involuntary bath, suggested to Frank that he
should call at the cottage and have a jug of good



A KIND GIFT. 37

cider, to which Job Little said he would add some
fine West India rum, to show there was no ill-
feeling, The man had no objection, and promised
to call some time during the day, and then he went
home to change his clothes.

“Give my compliments to your master,” shouted
Job after him, ‘and tell him, as he doesn’t know
his neighbours, that my mate, Anthony Morant,
is a bigger fellow than I am, and if ever your
cowardly master touches the child agaia, he'll
thrash him within an inch of his life. Good-bye,
no offence to you !”

As they were returning to the cottage, Charley
suddenly recollected the potatoes, so he and
little Fanny ran to the place where they had made
the fire, and found them nicely cooked, and only a
little burnt on the under side. The children then
hurried after the rest, and they all sat down to
dinner together.

After the meal was finished, Jenny drew her
mother aside, and said, “Mother dear, don’t you
think we can find a frock for that little girl? I
have two: may I give her one?”

Mrs. Morant praised her little daughter for her
good-nature, but reminded her that she would have
to wear her best every day, and then it would be
shabby on Sundays. But Jenny persevered and
gained her point, and running upstairs, soon













































“Take it, it is Jenny’s gift” (page 39).





PLANNING THE EXCURSION. 39

returned with her every-day indoor frock,
which she handed joyously to Fanny. She hesi-
tated to accept it, and looked timidly at Mrs.
Morant.

“Take it, my dear,” said the good wife. “It is
Jenny’s gift.”

So Fanny took it gladly, and thanked her kind
friends, with tears in her eyes.

“Look here,” said Job suddenly ; “ we'll all. go
up to Lanceton and buy dresses to-morrow, and
other things besides.”

“That will be fun!” said the girls. “Let us
go ! oP)

But Mrs. Morant interposed. ‘To-morrow will
be Sunday,” she said.

The children wanted to go at once, but then, no
one could look after the cows, so it was suggested
that a fishing excursion along the shore should
be attempted, only Charley could not go in that
case—what was to be done ?

“Tl look after the cows,” said Jenny, ee was -
always most unselfish.

But the little Fanny now volunteered. “ Let me
go,” she said, “I can take care of them.”

“Then you won’t sce the shrimping,” said Mrs.
Morant.

“Oh, never mind that,” said Fanny ; “I am too
tired to walk all along the beach, and besides, my



40 A FISHING EXCURSION.

feet are too sore to climb over the rocks and
stones.”

So it was arranged; and Fanny was delighted
to have an opportunity of doing something for the
people who had treated her so kindly. Nigger was
rather puzzled at first, but when told to follow
Fanny, he at last consented, and went off with
her and the animals very sedately.

‘Meanwhile Job was preparing the nets and other
fishing utensils for the expedition. Both the little
girls and Charley were supplied with landing nets
to contain anything they might catch in the pools
and lagoons, and away they all went, after strict
injunctions from their mother to be careful, for she
was unfortunately obliged to remain behind to look
after the house.

We all know that at certain periods the tide
recedes toa great distance. On these occasions
such fish as do not possess an almanack are fre-
quently left in the pools amongst’ the rocks until
the tide flows again, and they can swim out to sea.
Sometimes these pools are deep and large, and
lobsters, crabs, and other shell-fish, as well as
flounders and flat-fish, live quietly in them without
troubling themselves about the ebb or flow. It
was amongst these pools that the children, armed
with long sticks, or with a sort of two-pronged
fork, went hunting about. They were fairly suc-



CHARLEY’S SUCCESS. 41

cessful. They managed to catch some small lobsters
and crabs. They captured limpets and star-fish,
and a sea-urchin, as well as some sand-eels and
several little fish.

But Job went out far over the wet sands, and cap-
tured many soles and small flat-fish, some of which
he would come and pop slyly into Jenny’s basket or
into Rosie’s net. Great was the joy and astonish-
ment when a flat-fish was found, for the girls could
not imagine how such a thing could have got in
Sometimes Job would drop one or two upon the
sand, and then the girls would race for it, Rosic
being generally the winner, as her little legs went
faster than her sister’s.

While Job was engaged picking up such fish as
he thought good, he heard a great screaming from
Charley, who cried out for assistance.

“What’s the matter?” said Job, as he came up.

“T’ve got an enormous lobster.”

“Pull him out then !”

“T can’t, he won’t let me go—oh! he’s pinch-
ing me dreadfully—oh!” and Charley screamed
with the pain.

Job only laughed at him, and putting his hand
down into a cleft of the rock he pulled out the
immense lobster.

“Here is the offender,” he said; and in-
serting a splinter of wood between the two

































































































































































































































































































































































































































































¢)ve got an enormous lobster’ ’’ (page 41).



A CAPTURE. 43

branches of the claw, he released Charley’s bruised
hand.

“Ah!” cried Charley, as he rubbed his fingers,
to his sisters, ‘‘see what a splendid lobster J’ve
caught!”

“ You've caught!” exclaimed Job, “why he
caught you! “You shouldn’t cry for such a trifle
as that, my lad.”

“He pinched me very hard,” said Charley;
“besides, I didn’t ery—I only called out for you.”

* Oh, very well—come along, here’s a fine dog-
fish,—we’ll have him too!” said Job

“Let me catch him!” cried Rosie, “it is my
turn!”

It was not so easy to capture this fish, which
was furnished with formidable teeth, and looked
so very savage that Rosie felt at first inclined to
retreat. But she was a brave child, and advanced
to bar the passage of the fish, which thereupon
opened his mouth and showed such terrible fangs
that Rosie retreated from the pool, amid the
laughter of her companions. This only stimulated
her to further efforts, so she quickly ran round,
and before the dog-fish was aware of her intentions
she dashed in and seized him by the back. In a
moment he was tossed into the net—a captive !

“Bravo! well done!” cried Job, who dispatched
the enemy with a blow on the head.



44 A FISHING EXCURSION, .

Rosie in her turn looked very proud, and was as
brave as possible, shouldering her stick like a soldier,
and was proceeding to take possession of the fish,
when Job said, “ Mind, perhaps he isn’t dead yet.”
* Rosié jumped back in terror—all her assumed
bravery vanished, and she soon found out by the
laughter of her brother and sister that the old
sailor was only playing her a trick.

And so the afternoon passed. They were all
very happy, but very tired, when they returned
home to supper and displayed their trophies, some
of which were cooked and eaten soon afterwards,
for the children were too tired to sit up for their
father that night. Fanny returned at seven o’clock,
having performed her task of shepherdess very well
indeed. Sheat once set about helping Mrs. Morant,
who was delighted to find her so handy and so
willing.
- Anthony Morant returned at high water, and
when the boat was sighted Job went down to meet
his old friend and to bear a hand with the fish.
The old shipmates were delighted to meet each other
once again, and the supper was a very merry one.

“Who is that child?” said Anthony, as Fanny
came in to assist as before. So Mrs. Morant told
him, and Job bore witness to her good-nature and
unselfishness. Anthony Morant patted her head
affectionately, and said a few kind words to her ere



SATURDAY NIGHT. 45

she retired to her little bed in the small outbuilding
which had been hastily fitted up for her.

Next day was Sunday. They all went to church
in theforenoon. After dinner Job produced more
pretty things for the children—not forgetting
Fanny, and afterwards they walked- along the
beach at low water, when Anthony and Job com-
pared notes of their former voyages together and
had a good laugh over old times.















































































































CHAPTER VI.

GOING OUT FISHING—THE STORM—DEVOTION OF
JOB.

Nae Anthony and Job were smoking to-

gether that evening, the former asked what
his friend’s plans were, and when he would sail.
Job replied that he had shipped on board the Mary
Ann, bound for Bombay, and would leave England
in a month, but he would have to be in London in

' about eight days to superintend preparations.

“* Meantime you will remain here, of course,”
replied Anthony Morant.
“Tf my stay will not inconvenience you pee



“Certainly not. Why, you are one of the
family; we can’t part with you.”

Mrs.’Morant and the children all re-echoed the
sentiment.

“And Fanny may stay also?” added Charley,
while Jenny cast an imploring look at her mother,

‘who was very willing that the little wanderer should

remain; and so all was happily settled, and the



THE STORM. 47

family soon retired to rest, as they had to be up
early to go out fishing next morning.

Charley, who entertained a secret hope that he
might be permitted to accompany his father, was
awake at daybreak, and at once jumped out of bed.
But unfortunately for his wishes, the fishermen had
already left the house, and by the time he had
reached the little quay the boat was some distance
out at sea,

Having thumped his head two or three times
with his closed hands by way of refreshment after
the disappointment, he returned home, feeling better,
let us hope, for the original treatment he had ad-
ministered to himself, and after a hearty breakfast
he started out with his charges as usual.

During the day the sky became overcast, and
the weather assumed a very threatening appear-
ance. The waves broke heavily upon the beach
with a dull roar, and the foam dashed up upon the
worn piles of the jetty. The wind increased, the
sea ran high as the tide began to turn. ‘Sea-birds
wheeled screaming above the cliffs as they struggled
to face the blast and were whirled away in the vain
contest against the rising wind. Soon a little knot
of women, anxious wives, for the most part, gathered
upon the pier, or climbed high upon the cliff to
scan the swelling ocean with’ tearful, loving eyes.
By-and-by a few of the smaller craft, which had



48 JOBS DEVOTION.

not ventured far out to sea, or which had put about
at the first signs of the coming tempest, reached
the harbour ; but fears were openly expressed for the
safety of the larger vessels exposed to the full fury
of the storm.

Before long the darkness increased, and. the
elemental war broke forth in vivid lightning flashes
and deep thunder growls; at first distant, the peals
became nearer, the flashes more frequent and
dazzling. The sea seemed to rise also, and dashed
with terrible fury against the pier, or roared upon
the beach, rattling the shingle in its furious onset.
Still, in the brief pauses of the storm, those on shore
swept the horizon for the missing boats, At length
a sail was sighted.

“Tt is like one of our boats,” the spectators said.

Then followed a period of deep anxiety, as one
by one the boats came tearing over the foaming
seas, now heeling over to the squalls, and anon
righting and plunging headlong into the waves,
which curved and foamed around the bows or
dashed aboard in spray. Three vessels reached the
port in safety, and making the total of boats seven.
Three more were still due, and Morant’s was one
of these. An anxious time, indeed, for those on
shore! .Towards evening another “smack” ap-
peared ; the mast had gone, and one of the crew,
a lad, was missing, carried away by a terrific wave.



MARIAN'S ANXIETY. 49

The survivors had done all in their power to save
the boy, but without success, and they had them-
selves barely escaped with life, to tell the tale
to the poor widowed mother, whose cup of sorrow
was already full.

“Has Anthony returned?” asked one of. the
last comers.

“No. Why?”

“ Because he was at least two miles to windward
of us, and I’m afraid Pe

“He has sound timbers under him. He'll do
well, be sure.”

“ Aye, aye; but hell have all his work cut out
to weather the Blue Point reef to-day on the
ebb.”

“Belay that,” said another; “here’s his wife
a-coming down.”

Poor Marian had heard what the men said, the
fears of danger and the well-meant warning. Pale,
trembling, and with a fixed look in her eyes, she
strained her gaze over the sea.

“There’s something beating up by the Barnacles,”
cried a sailor, who was gazing intently through a
telescope.

‘Where? Oh let me see!” exclaimed Marian ;
_ and seizing the glass, she looked long and steadily
at the approaching vessel.

“Tt is Anthony,” she cried.





























































































































































































Where? Oh let me see’”’ (page 49).







































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE BOAT—THE BOAT! 51

“God grant that he may be able to run in,”
muttered an old fisherman piously. ;

“Let me see!” cried a woman whose husband
was missing in the third boat still out.

“It’s Anthony, sure enough,” said a sailor after
a pause.

“Oh, may Heaven have mercy upon him,” prayed
Marian fervently, as she watched the boat now
rapidly approaching i in spite of the ebbing tide and
furious sea.

Before long the forms on board could be. dis-
tinguished. There were three men visible. The
crew was usually composed of Anthony, a sailor,
and a boy. On this occasion Job had accom-
panied them; who was missing? It was a terrible
moment for Marian, who, with the telescope, en-
deavoured to distinguish the features of those on
board. But in a few minutes she had seen enough
to assure her that Anthony was not amongst them,
and the poor woman looked around upon the faces
of her companions. Their pitiful, looks and evi-
dent sympathy revealed to her the sad truth; but
even then she would not credit the evidence of her
loss. ‘With trembling hands ‘she again raised the
telescope to her eyes.

The boat came dashing on, apparently unable to
resist the shock of each breaking wave; but every
time the taut little vessel rose and shook the foam



52 JOBS DEVOTION.

from her dripping deck as she struggled bravely
towards the shore. Job was at the helm, a hand-
kerchief bound about his temples, while his left arm
was thrust helplessly into the breast of his pilot
jacket. The lad, twelve years old, was doing all in
his power to assist him, while the remaining “hand”
took in the dripping sails.

On camethe boat; it was no use attempting to
make the harbour, so Job drove her upon the beach,
where in a short time she was hauled out of danger
by a hundred willing hands, aided by the waves
which had been hitherto soanxiousfor her destruction.

The boat fell gradually over on the shingle.
Marian rushed to Job as he descended, and cried,
“ My husband ! where is my husband ?”

“It has pleased God to take him,” replied the
sailor, as tears trickled down his cheeks.

Poor Mrs. Morant’s grief was painful to witness,
but Job strove to comfort her. “He died doing
his duty, like a brave fellow as he was,” said the
hardy sailor. “He was endeavouring to save the
crew of a boat that foundered, when the boom
knocked him overboard. I leaped after him, and
should have perished but for the efforts of that
brave fellow yonder,” he added, indicating the sailor
whose son had also been on board, and he put his
arms affectionately around the widow’s neck in a
vain endeavour to console her.



FATHERLESS! 53

Job and his companions succeeded in inducing
poor Marian to return home; but when she reached
the house which her dear husband would never
behold again, her grief broke forth anew. The
innocent caresses of the children also added to
her sorrow, for they could not understand their
loss.

“But father will come back soon, won’t he?”
said Charley.

‘Of course,” replied Rosie.

Jenny wept in silence; Fanny wished that she
could have taken the place of the dead, for she was
terrified at the catastrophe and its results.

Mrs. Morant was a brave, trustful woman. Her
piety and her deep affection for her children assisted
her to conquer her grief. After a few days she
began to go about her household concerns, and she
found great consolation in Jenny’s assistance and
sympathy. Charley also did his best; but the death
of his father had plunged them all into a sort of
stupor, and Charley would pass whole days upon
the beach, looking at the sea and wondering whether
father would ever come. ‘anny would call him
to his meals; but only one wud, “Father,” ever
escaped him at that time.

The boat was soon repaired by Job when he had
recovered from the injuries he had sustained, and

- then he went out fishing again with the man and



BA JOBS DEVOTION.

the boy who had been his companions that terrible
day. For, as Kingsley so touchingly writes,

“Men must work and women must weep.”

Indeed, there are still many such sad days; but the
devotion and courage exhibited on’ these occasions,
and the noble self-denial so frequently shown by
sufferers, should serve us for an example of true
Christian charity.

Job was an instance of this.

Job obtained permission to remain at Landsec-
combe; but at the end of a month, as he was
about to leave, he asked Marian what her plans
for the future were.

“ T intend to let our boat to Andrew,” (the sailor) ;
“he will fish and give me half the profits.”

“Well, that’s the best thing you can do; and
your son—what about Charley?”

“He is so young yet,” she replied.

“T was a cabin boy at his age,” said Job.

“ Do not press me now, Job; Iam so unhappy, I
cannot make up my mind to anything. Let him
remain at home for a year or so. I dread letting
him go to sea.”

“But he wishes to do so. Don’t be unreason-
able. He is a good boy, though rather lazy.”

“That is my fault,” replied Marian.

“Well, perhaps so; but we will talk of this again.”



CHARLEY AND FANNY. — 55

“Yes, next year, when you have come back from
your voyage.” : :

“ All right. But meantime, I beg of you to
accustom your son to a seafaring life. Let him
learn all he can. Now do be reasonable about this,
my good soul, and pray do not cry so bitterly. Try
to look upon this as the work of God; and though
hard to bear, remember it is His will.” ;

“Yes, Job; but when I think of what the sea
has already cost me, I cannot keep up as I wish.”

Job endeavoured to console her, and not without
success. During the few days that still remained
he put the boat to rights, and repaired it thoroughly.
He spoke to Andrew about serving Mrs. Morant
faithfully, and at last took his departure, carrying
with him the regrets and good wishes of all.

Next day, when Marian was. putting away the
linen, she found a small leather purse full of money.
- It was Job’s purse; he had given her every farthing
he possessed in the world.

After Job’s departure, everyone was extremely
kind to the poor widow and her children. The
curate offered to teach Fanny to read and write,
greatly to her delight; and then she, in her turn,
instructed Charley in the evenings when he came
in from the fields. She encouraged him and forced
him to learn hisletters,and soon, with her assistance,
he was able to read his prayers. Then the kind





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LDISP AND NS?



him to learn” (page 55)

«She encouraged



LEARNING TO READ, 57

curate, seeing how matters stood, took Charley him-
self, and at the end of three months the lad knew
as much as Fanny. He quickly picked up know-
ledge, and, furnished with a geography and an atlas,
he used to study hard during the day while he was
out in the fields minding the cattle, for that was the
only task his indulgent mother imposed upon him.







































CHAPTER VII.

JOB’S RETURN— CHARLEY CHOOSES A PROFESSION—
THE “JOHN BROWN.”

NE morning, some months after Job’s
departure, Charley had gone out to mind
the animals, but had fallen fast asleep upon a heap
of stones by the roadside. This, even for him,
very unusual laziness was induced by his toils on
board the fishing-boat the night previous, for he was
now learning the business of a fisherman. He was
very comfortably asleep, when he was suddenly
awakened by a fall, or rather by the sudden falling
away of the stones on which he was resting. He
opened his eyes,-and greatly to his astonishment
perceived Job standing over him. Charley jumped
up and threw himself into his friend’s arms.
After their greetings were over, Job asked
Charley what he was doing.
“‘ Minding the animals,” was the reply.
“Oh, indeed!” exclaimed Job. “Pray, where
are the animals ?”



CHARLEY’S DECISION. 59

“Why, Bellona is ” here Charley stopped
suddenly, for the cow had, as usual, taken advan-
tage of the circumstances and had wandered into a
neighbouring plantation. The other animals had
_ also gone in search of other pasture while Charley
was sleeping.

“You had better get them, together,” said Job,
“and then we can have a chat.” .

Job spoke very seriously, and his manner im-
pressed Charley very much. So he quickly collected
his charges, with the assistance of Nigger, and then
sat down beside his friend to hear what he had to
say.

“You are now nearly twelve years old, my lad,”
began Job, “and it is quite time you thought of
making yourself useful; not only for the present,
but in order to earn a livelihood. What do you
wish to become?”

“A sailor, of course,” replied Charley.

“You have quite made up your mind to that?”

“Yes, quite. I don’t want to remain here as a
‘armer’s lad, and besides ”

“ Well, besides?” asked Job.

‘When I am a sailor I shall be able to earn some-
thing for mother,” replied Charley.

“Bravo!” exclaimed his friend. “Spoken like
your father’s son. You willbe a brave fellow such
as he, I’ve no doubt. Now, if you have the reso-







69 JOBS RETURN.

lution to do so, we had better be off at
once.”

“ At once! To-day, do you mean?”

“In a day or two, Your mother works for you,
and works too hard. She is very indulgent, and you
must not be a burthen upon her.”

“ Do boys get well paid on board ship?” asked ©
Charley.

“ Ah! well. You'll not make your fortune the
first year, at any rate,” replied the sailor dryly, “‘so
you cannot count upon supporting your family
immediately. But you may be at ease upon that
point. You will be paid more as you grow older,
and meantime I will take care that your mother
does not want.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” cried Charley,
clasping Job’s hand.

“Will you sail with me, then?”

“‘Oh, Job, that is the very thing of all others I
should wish to do!”

“Very good, I will go now and prepare your
mother for your departure; she has quite enough
trouble without having to look after you, boy.
Rosie can mind the cows quite as well as you. So
for the present, good-bye.”

Mrs. Morant was very grieved at the idea of
parting with her son, but her heart told her that
Job was right, so she endeavoured to hide her



THE “ JOHN BROWN.’ 61

sorrow, and set about to make preparations for
Charley’s outfit.

We must, however, explain the circumstances
under which Job had returned before we continue
our narrative. Job had shipped for a voyage in
the John Brown, one of the largest traders be-
longing to the Eastern Ship Company, and as it
happened, two influential officers of the Company
had embarked also on the John Brown to visit
some of the branch offices in various localities
abroad. The captain had orders to conform to their
instructions, and the limit of the voyage was in no
way fixed. It might last a couple of years, or more;
but Job did not think it necessary to mention this
little fact to Mrs. Morant.

In consequence of the importance of the expedi-
tion, the Company were very desirous to obtain the
best crew available. Job, who had been known to
Captain Thompson for years as an excellent hand,
was of course included, and the good old sailor
had procured the captain’s permission to engage
Charley, having answered for him that. he would
make himself useful. It was further discovered,
that Anthony Morant, Charley’s father, had served
under Captain Thompson in the Naval Reserve,
so there was less difficulty in acceding to the
application so kindly made by Job, who had per-
mission to bring Charley with him. Captain











‘ Every time a storm came she was terrified ”? (page 65).





CAPTAIN THOMPSON. 63

. Thompson, being of the same county as Anthony
Morant, having learnt that the widow was in very
reduced circumstances, very generously gave Job
some money to be expended upon Charley’s outfit,
and despatched the trusty tar to Landseccombe with
instructions to bring Charley up to London with
him as soon as possible. The result we have already
seen.





















































































































CHAPTER VIII.

CHARLEY GOES AWAY WITH JOB—CAPTAIN THOMP-
SON—CHARLEY LEAVES ENGLAND.

YF] \HERE was no time to be lost. The John:

Brown was nearly ready for sea, so Mrs.
Morant, assisted by the captain’s gift, quickly pro-
cured Charley’s outfit. Meantime, all sorts of
anticipations as to Charley’s future were indulged in
by the little girls, who tried to comfort poor Mrs.
Morant by prophesying all good fortune for her
son. At last the preparations were completed, and
the day of departure arrived. All felt the
parting deeply. The brother and sisters kissed
each other affectionately, and Charley went out
by himself to take a melancholy farewell of his
Jate charges, which rubbed their heads against him
and seemed as if they quite understood the farewell
words he addressed to them. Nigger would not
leave his master for an instant. As Charley re-:
turned to the house, he met little Fanny. The
children embraced each other warmly and tearfully.

e ”



“GOOD-BYE, 65

Mrs. Morant and his sisters came with the travellers
part of the way in the van lent by afarmer. At
Lanceton they were obliged to part.

“Good-bye, my darling boy,” cried the poor
mother. ‘Good-bye; be brave and true like your
father. God bless and protect you.”

At length they were obliged to tear themselves
away. Charley and Job got up on the coach, which
soon started. Nigger ran after it, but was sent
_ back and secured by Rosie with her handkerchief.
The poor dog howled piteously as his master dis-
appeared, and when he was out of sight the sor-
rowful group returned to the house, which now
appeared perfectly desolate. Mrs. Morant’s grief
returned. The thought of her lost husband came
back to her with greater force. very time a storm
came up:she was terrified for fear that Charley was
exposed to it, though by that time he was far away
at sea, and probably quite out of that tempest which
blew upon the coast. But a mother’s heart is ever
alarmed for her children. Sometimes, when the
storm broke forth, Mrs. Morant and her daughters
would all kneel down together to pray for Charley’s.
safety, and they felt calm and reassured when
they rose from their knees.

We will not attempt to describe Charley’s aston-.
ishment on his arrival in the Metropolis, and his
admiration for the’Docks and the Pool, which he

5



66 CHARLEY GUS TO SEA,

described as a “forest of masts.”. Job was very
much amused by his remarks and observations, and
for a day or two took him about to show him a few
sights. After the third day, however, finding that
Charley was gaining more self-possession, he deter-
mined to introduce him to Captain Thompson.
_ Amongst the crew of the John Brown were two
men who had sailed with Job before, and who had
known Anthony Morant also. To these men Job
introduced Charley, so that he might have some pro-
tection in case of Job’s absence. One of the sailors
was a regular rough old sea-dog, and growled out his
words rather than spoke. He was also a West-
countryman, and his name was Peters. The other
was quite a different-looking man. He was an
Irishman named Connor, a cheerful, pleasant fel-
low, full of fun and ready for mischief or duty as
might happen. But these men were great friends
and almost inseparable companions, though so
opposite in appearance and disposition. The Ivish-
man was always teasing and joking with his
comrade, who detested a joke, and threatened to
thrash the merry Hibernian many times a day; but
he never meant his threats to be taken seriously,
as was well understood, although he did get very
angry sonietimes.
It was in a small coffee-house that Charley first
met these men. Peters at once accosted him by



CONNOR AND PETERS. 67

asking his name in a rough tone, and offering him
_some spirits, which Charley at once declined.
Connor, on the other hand, called him, and placing
the lad before him, asked him if he knew how
monkeys ate sugar in the East Indies. Charley
said No. So the Irishman called for some lumps
of sugar, and put one in Charley’s mouth. “Now
bite it,” he said. ; ;

Charley bit it, thinking this was rather a pleasant
game.

“Well,” said Connor, ‘have you eaten it?

“Yes,” said Charley, wondering what was coming
next.

“Then that’s the way monkeys eat it in the East
Indies,” replied Connor, laughing at Charley’s
puzzled expression.

“T suppose you'll be giving him chocolate and
ices next,” growled old Peters. ‘Bah! Here, boy,
here’s sixpence for you; now if you buy sweets
with that Tl cut you in pieces with a hatchet. Be
off, make sail! ”

Charley lost no time in going outside the door,
where he amused himself watching an organ-man
and his monkey till Job rejoined him. Then they
wentin searchof Captain Thompson, and fortunately
met him near the docks.

“So this is the lad, eh? ” said he.

“Yes, your honour,” replied Job



68 CHARLEY GOES TO SEA.

“How long have you been here ?”

“ Three days or so, your honour.”

“ Why did you not bring him to me at once?”

Job hesitated. He had kept the lad away till
his “ homesickness ” had in a measure worn off, and
till he was more himself. Job did not like to say
this to the Captain, who continued,—

‘You wished to form his character, perhaps. Is
that the reason you took him to that house yonder,
where he has learnt to drink and smoke, most
likely ?”

“Sir,” replied Job proudly, “I only took him
there for a few moments to introduce him to my
mates,—friends of his late father, too.’

“That is a different thing,” replied the Captain ;
“but you would have done better not to have gone
there at all. Ashe grows up he will be more likely
to imitate the faults than the virtues of those with
whom he associates.”

As he was speaking, Captain Thompson laid his
hand upon Charley’s head, and afterwards turning
to him, he said,—

“You have an honest face, my boy. You are
like your father, too; I remember him well. He was
a fine sailor.”

He then continued to talk to Charley, who was
able to answer with spirit. The Captain found his
first impressions confirmed. “ We shall:soon make

























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































“« You have an honest face, my boy’ ” (page 68).



70 CHARLEY GOES TO SEA.

something out of him,” he said. . “The shell is
thick, but the kernel is good, Can you read and
write, boy?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Charley.

* Do you know arithmetic ?”

“ A little, sir.”

“Well then, from to-day you may consider
yourself as belonging to my ship. Write to your
mother; tell her: that the Captain knew her late
husband and, will look after you.”

Charley thanked him, and touched his cap, and
Job made a bow as the Captain turned away. Next
day they went on board the John Brown. Charley
_was immediately set to work. The first day he got
on very well, the novelty kept him amused; but the
next day he found his work very irksome. Thanks,
however, to Job and his two friends, Charley man-
aged very well. To work properly, one must be
accastomed to work in other places besides one’s
own house. Children often fancy that they will
find more indulgence and liberty away from home
while the contrary is really the case.

Before Charley left the docks he wrote to his —
mother. The composition of this letter cost him
much time and trouble, for he had great difficulty
in expressing himself to his satisfaction, and the
letter took a long time to finish. Here it is:—



A LETTER HOME. 71

“My pear Morurr,—

“JT am very well, and I hope you are the same,
and also Jenny, Rosie, and Fanny. We shall sail
in eight days, I am working very hard, dear mother,
and sometimes I don’t like it; but Job says,
‘ Remember your mother, who has worked all her life
for you,’ so my courage comes again. The captain
is very kind tome. He tapped me on the cheek
the other day, but boxed another boy’s ears. But
Bernard, that is the boy’s name, is very funny; I
cannot help laughing at him, he says such amusing
things ; but whether they are true or not I cannot
tell. We have had one little fight; he is bigger
than I am, but I like him all the same. He can
smoke and drink spirits, but Job won’t let me try,
because he says you would be unhappy if I did, so
I won't.

“Now that I am growing up a man and see how
difficult it is to earn money, I understand how good
and kind you and father have been. I wish I could
be rich and help you, and then neither you nor my
sisters need work any more, but eat and drink the
very nicest things, and have plenty of cider. I would
have such a nice little house, and a farmyard, and a
boat on a pond. You should all be beautifully
dressed, and Fanny should always live with us.
I have a shilling in my purse, and want to send it
to you, but Job says I had better wait till I come



72 CHARLEY GOES TO SEA.

back. He and Peters and Connor are all very kind.
-tome. Connor tells such funny stories.
.. “We have plenty to eat, I assure you, and I often
wish to put some food in my pocket for sisters.
Tell Jenny to write me a long, long letter if you
have not time, and tell me all about home. Do
the animals obey Rosie? I have seen such big
cows since I came here, but the milk is not nearly
so good as oursis. Bernard says in some countries
the animals browse on tall trees; but I don’t believe
that. Tell Rosie to kiss Nigger for me. I always
ery when I think of him, but Connor says it is not
manly for a boy to cry, so I don’t now—when he
can see me. I wish I could give you a kiss, dear
mother. Tell FannyI often think of her, and I love
her because she is fond of you.

“Now as I have no more to say, I must stop
writing. I have been three days writing this, and
it makes me giddy. With hundreds of kisses to
you and all, dear mother, I am

“Your affectionate son,
“ Cuartey Moranr.”

Hight days after the despatch of this letter the
John Brown sailed for the Brazils.

ay.
yr PMNS 00



































































































































CHAPTER IX.

THE “JOHN BROWN”—IIFE ON BOARD SHIP—
CHARLEY’S FIRST EXPERIENCES — BERNARD’S
PRACTICAL JOKES.

‘\O those who are unaccustomed to sleep in a

hammock there are more comfortable rest-

ing-places than that Lit of canvas suspended from
the beams.

The first night Charley passed in his hammock
was, at any rate,a most uncomfortable one. Every
movement of the vessel shook him, and when he
arose in the morning he felt as if he had received
a good beating.

“Tt will be all right sixty years hence,” said Job ;
“you will not be able to sleep in anything else
then. Don’t forget, my lad, that you are lucky in
getting aboard such a vessel as the John Brown,
and that you have the chance of becoming a sailor.”

Soon after this they went on deck, where the
speed of the ship was being determined by the log.
This is a triangular piece of wood which, thrown



74 ON BOARD SHIP.

into the water, remains stationary, while the cord
attached to it is rapidly unrolled as the vessel pro-
ceeds. In about a minute the quantity of rope
unwound from the reel enables the sailors to
calculate the rate of progression. This is called
“heaving the log.” *

“ This is a very important business,” said Job to
Charley, “for we have to enter every day in the
log-book the rate we are going, our course, the
direction of the wind, any accidents that may
occur, what vessels. we meet; in fact, it is quite a
diary or journal of all that we note on board.
This duty is performed by the officer of the watch,
who is relieved every four hours.t The watches
are known, also, as starboard and-larboard watches»

* The log is so leaded that it swims upright, its flat top
and its weight preventing it from moving through the
water, though it will float. The log-line is divided into
lengths by knots, so that sailors can tell the rate by
observing how many lengths run out. Each length bears
the same proportion to a geographical mile as half a
minute to an hour. Therefore, by observing how many
knots in the cord are run out in half a minute the sailors find
that the ship is going just that same number of geographical
miles an hour. A geographical mile, or “knot,” is more
than a statute mile. So, a ship running twelve“ knots ”
is going about fourteen miles in an hour.

¢ The day and night are divided into “ watches,” lasting
four hours, except the time between four and eight in
the afternoon. This watch is divided into two, when



THE LOG. 75

according as they are on the starboard or larboard
side of the ship.”

“But,” said Charley, who was all this time
intently watching the log-line, “why are there
so many knots on the rope?”

“Have you noticed that the knots occur at
regular intervals? Very well. The man who
holds the cord counts them as they pass his fingers.
He then calculates how many knots the ship is
going in a certain time.”

Charley was pleased to learn this, and he also
noted, with great satisfaction, that there were a
number of sheep on board, besides a cow and a
goat. He felt quite at home now, and decided to
make the acquaintance of these animals.

Job, however, began to instruct his young friend
practically in the duties of his calling, and desired
him to ascend the main-top. To do this, Charley
was obliged to climb up the skrotds, ropes which
we have all noticed fastened like ladders to the sides
of the masts of all ships. The mast is not all in
one piéce; it is really composed of three separate
lengths. At the top of the pieces are little plat-
forms, called “tops.” The first platform of the —

change of men, or “hands” as they may be called, is
made in the “ watches,” so that the same men are not on
always at the same time every day. These two-hour
periods are known as “dog watches.”





































































Va
Zi









































































































“ Weaving the log’ (page 75).



GOING ALOFT. 17

main-mast is called ‘ main-top,” the mast above it
is the main-top-mast, and its sail is the main-top-
sail. The next mast is the main-top-gallant mast,
which is surmounted by the “royal” masts, and
on top of all is a button-like knob called the
“ truck.”

Unfortunately for Charley’s success, his young
friend Bernard had told him seriously that the
“ cat-hole,” an opening in the top (through which
novicés ascend, but which no. sailor uses), was
occupied by an enormous cat— which never quitted
its post by night or day—and the boy had added,
“Tt is accustomed to old sailors, but it bites
and scratches. any new-comer cruelly, so look out !”

An apprentice and two able-bodied sailors had
confirmed this statement, so Charley was in a
terrible fright when Job told him to go up to the
main-top-gallant cross-trees. He ascended the
shrouds very slowly, therefore, and Job told him to
go faster. As he got nearer and nearer to the “top”
his courage failed, and Job cried out, vexed at his
indifference,—

“ Are you not going up as you are told?”
_ Bernard and the apprentice were all this time in

fits of laughter, and Job seized a rope’s end, and
was about to follow Charley, in order to expedite
his progress, when the Captain, who was looking
on, cried out, — .



78 ON BOARD SHIP.

“ Are you afraid, my lad?”

These words, and this doubt of his courage, roused
Charley’s pride, and in another moment he had
passed the dreaded cat-hole, and was clinging to
the cross-trees. . He soon was ordered down again,
but before he had been on deck long a scuffle was
heard. The noise was caused by Charley and
Bernard. The former had at once rushed at the
joker, and was thrashing him, when the Captain
interfered and separated the combatants.

“My lad,” he said to Charley, “you must not
fight on board my ship. You should not be put out
by such a joke as that. You must take your turn
as others do. But, Bernard,” he continued, “ you
must be careful that your wit does net carry you
too far, or some day the master-at-arms will have
to pay you what you will deserve with his cane.”

But this warning did not prevent the volatile
youth from proceeding to other jokes as oppor-
tunities arose. One day he sent Charley to the cook
with a message, as from the surgeon, to desire him
to broil the wings of a flying-fish for luncheon. Un-
fortunately, the cook had got into disgrace about
the fowls he had lately sent up to the cabin table,
for the six'birds had come in with only four wings
and five legs between them. The Captain would
not admit that nature had been so unkind to
these particular fowls, so he stopped the cock’s



PRACTICAL JOKES. 79

ration of spirits. When, therefore, Charley arrived
with the supposed message from the surgeon to
cook two wings of a flying-fish, the cook replied
by a buffet which nearly knocked the boy down.

Charley returned very crest-fallen to his com-
rades, who received him with shouts of laughter.

“Well, what did the cook say?” inquired
Bernard.

“This is his answer,” replied Charley, generously
giving Bernard the blow which he had received
from the cook. A battle at once ensued, which
was quickly stopped by the second officer, who
ordered Bernard a caning by the master-at-arms,
which was at once applied, notwithstanding
Charley’s request to share the punishment, which
he said he deserved for haying been so easily
duped.

But Bernard, even in his suffering, tried to con-
sole Charley. “It won’t kill me,” he said; “ but-I
can’t help playing tricks, I wish I could. Look at
the consequences,” he added, as he turned his
searred shoulders: round for Charley’s inspection.
But the lesson was not lost upon either of the
boys. rs











CHAPTER X.

CHARLEY MAKES A NEW ACQUAINTANCE.—CROSSING
THE LINE—OLD FATHER NEPTUNE AND UJHIS
COURT COME ON BOARD.

NE day when Charley was working at his
arithmetic—for he had promised his mother
to do so whenever he could—Mr. Villiers, the Com-
pany’s Inspector, approached and asked him what
he was doing. Charley showed him his sum, and
the gentleman asked why he worked so hard alone.
““T promised my mother to do so, sir,” replied
Charley.
“Do you like reading?” asked Mr. Villiers.
“T think I do, sir.”
“Think!” exclaimed his new acquaintance.
* Are you not sure ?”
“T used not to like it, sir; but now I am begin-
ning to like it better.”
“Tam sorry I have few books suited to you.
But if you will come to my cabin I will see what I
can do.”



~~" 14511) WAND









“Mr, Villiers asked what he was doing” (page 8).



. 82 A NEW. FRIEND.

Charley thanked him, but as he was not per-
mitted to go aft except when on duty, Job was .
obliged to run the risk of punishment and take him
to Mr. Villiers. Charley had much improved lately, |
he had lost his sleepy look, and now appeared more
what he really was—a good, honest, and intelligent
lad. His frankness pleased his new friend, who
frequently sent for him afterwards, and employed
him in his cabin. Here Charley became very use-
ful, and at last quite won Mr. Villiers’ favour.
That gentleman gave him instruction in mathe-
matics also, and Charley did all he could to
please.

But about this time they were nearing the
equator, where, according to custcm, the ceremony
of Neptune’s baptism is performed on all who
have not previously crossed the Line. The Captain
gave the desired permission, and when the great
day arrived, the announcement of Father Neptune’s
intended arrival was made by a sailor dressed as
a postilion, who, riding upon a broomstick and
cracking an immense whip, sought an interview
with the Captain on the quarter-deck. The Captain
stopped in his walk; and, in reply to the courier,
said that he would ‘be happy to receive Father
Neptune and his wife on board. The postilion
retired in such a hurry that his great spurs. caught
together and threw him down, whereupon he beat



CROSSING THE LINE. 83

his wooden steed for having thrown him; and,
amid much laughter, he disappeared to inform
Father Neptune of the Captain’s pleasure.
Meantime, the passengers and ship’s onicers
were assembling upon the quarter-deck to receive
Neptune and his court. The Captain placed him-
self in front of the group. Soon a horrible noise,
made by a clarionette, a violin, some’ saucepan-
lids, and a small barrel used as a drum, announced
Neptune’s arrival on board. Two sailors in long
green beards, wrapped in cloaks hanging toga-
fashion, and carrying boarding axes, preceded
his Majesty of the Sea. Then Father Neptune,
who was no other than our friend Connor,
appeared. He was dressed in pasteboard armour
covered with gilt-paper. His long hair and beard
descended to his knees. He carried a trident and
a shield; a saucepan lid did duty for a watch.
His tender spouse accompanied him. She was
personated by the apprentice, and wore a short-sea-
green skirt and a tremendous bonnet made of paper
and covered with sea-birds’ feathers. She carried
a: doll, which she caressed unceasingly. Behind
Neptune and his wife came his attendants, all
fantastically dressed, dancing, and singing, and
laughing. As soon as Neptune approached the
Captain he commanded silence, and made a long
speech, to which the Captain replied and gave him



84 A NEW FRIEND.

permission to dip those who had not crossed the
Line before. “st
Amongst these was Charley, who had been warned
by Job not to resent anything that was done.
Charley promised. In time he was called, and,
seated upon a plank placed over an immense tub
of water, waited His Marine Majesty’s pleasure.
Neptune asked his name, and then read him a
lecture on the duties of boys on board ship. He
made him take a certain oath to be faithful, and
while Charley was repeating it the plank was
withdrawn and he was soused into the water. |
But while the sailors were amusing themselves
the Captain’s experienced eyes perceived symptoms
of an approaching storm. So the word was passed
forward to make “all snug,” and the frolics of
Father Neptune and his court came to an end.

















































































































































CHAPTER XI.

THE STORM—MAN OVERBOARD— COURAGE OF
CHARLEY MORANT—RIO JANEIRO.

HE storm soon burst with great fury, and
the ship plunged fearfully, dipping her bow-
sprit into the sea, and throwing the spray high over
the deck. The sailors, except those whose presence
on deck was absolutely necessary, were kept below.
Mr. Villiers, however, insisted upon remaining on
the poop, where he stood watching the storm. At
length, an enormous wave struck the vessel, and ere
she could right herself another came along, and
breaking, dashed with terrific force over the quarter,
and swept across the poop. The sen at the wheel,
who were lashed to it, were able to resist the force
of the sea, but Mr. Villiers was swept away in an
instant.
“Man overboard!” was the terrible ery that rang
through the ship, and ere the word had been passed



86 i MAN OVERBOARD!

a second warning came: “Another man over-
board!”

It was too true. The second was our friend
Charley, who had perceived Mr. Villiers stagger as
the wave struck him, and with great presence of
mind had seized a rope coiled on deck, and leaped
after him into the raging sea. Fortunately, he was
a splendid swimmer, but the risk was very great.
Charley, however, did not think of that; all his
anxiety was for his benefactor.

Charley struggled manfully against the breaking
seas; but in spite of all his efforts, Mr. Villiers
seemed carried away from him. Yet both continued
to keep afloat; and at length, Charley, having
secured a life-buoy which had been flung over-
board, managed to reach Mr. Villiers, and both
clinging to it were ultimately picked up by the boat
despatched to their assistance. When he was
hoisted into the boat Charley was almost uncon-
scious, and his fingers had contracted so tightly
round the cordage of the life-buoy that his pre-
servers had some difficulty to unclasp them.

When he recovered, Charley was loudly praised
by all for his courage and devotion. Job and
Connor were delighted, while old Peters growled
out, “Ah, my lad, when I saw you eating the sugar
that day I didn’t think you had so much pluck.”

The worthy sailor had neyer yet digested that



CHARLEY’S PLUCK, 87

sugar, evidently. Charley’s heroic conduct was duly
entered in the log-book, and the captain congratu-
lated the lad warmly. Mr. Villiers, who had re-
tained his presence of mind in a wonderful manner
all through, was very demonstrative in his thanks
and praises to his young preserver, from which
Charley escaped at length and went forward, where
he was received by the crew with three cheers.

“Charley, my lad,” exclaimed Connor, who.
would have his joke at any time, “I appoint you
my Colonel of ‘Plungers,’ Horse Marines, if you
like, and this shall be your Albert Medal.” He
fastened a huge saucepan-lid to Charley’s vest as he
spoke, but immediately grasped his hand with a
warmth that told the boy that his conduct was
highly appreciated by his Hibernian messmate.

The tempest soon blew itself out, and then the
John Brown was enabled to lie her regular course,
from which she had been lately “ scudding” before
the storm. During the evening Mr. Villiers and
Captain Thompson had a walk on the quarter-deck,
and the quarter-master, who had the wheel, and
could not help overhearing something of their con-
versation, said that Charley was the subject of it.
All he could understand, however, was that Mr.
Villiers had some plan for Charley’s future employ-
ment, and the captain was rather opposed to its
being carried out. “ Let him grow up and let his



88 MAN OVERBOARD!

character form itself first,” said the captain. “He
will thank you later for having waited.” But what
was Mr. Villiers’ project? That the sailor could
not tell Job when he questioned him.

Charley, though a very good boy, had his faults.
Deeds of daring are common enough among sailors,
and after a few days Charley’s exploit ceased to
be spoken of, if not forgotten. Unfortunately,
when, Charley found that no one spoke about it,
he began to talk about it himself. This passed once
or twice without remark, but the third time, Peters

‘said to him, roughly, “Let us alone, will you?
Don’t come here talking about your doings; get
out, you young monkey.”

Seeing the lad was retiring, half-crying, Connor
caught him by the arm and said, “I must tell you
why Peters spoke to you so unkindly. What you
did the other day was splendid, particularly for a
boy like you, but you mustn’t be always talking
about it. very man on board has, I suppose, done
as much; and what a nice time we should have if
all were to be perpetually chattering about their
grand deeds, eh? Praise, my boy, should come to
you; don’t you seek it, d’ye hear?”

“ Because a fellow is brave he should not be vain,”
added Job.

“Yes, I understand,” said Charley, much abashed,
and nearly crying. .





























































































































































































































































































Because a fellow is brave he should not be vain,’ added Job.



90 RIO JANEIRO.

“Now look at me,” continued Connor, with a
smile. “Look at me. One day, in the middle of
the night, I saved a whole coach full of people,
besides three cats and two dogs, from the stomach
of a whale. You never hear me talk about that.”

“How did you do it?” asked Job, laughing.

‘“‘ Why, I spliced a cable round one of the wheels
of the coach. The other end of the rope I tied
round a cannon-ball, loaded the gun, fired it, and
so drew out the coach, passengers, horses, dogs,
and the three elephants 2 :

“You said cats just now,” said Charley.

“ Well, cats; but they had caught so many mice
inside the whale that they had grown as big as —
elephants,” said Connor.

As Connor told this story very gravely, everyone
laughed, and Charley more than any one. This was
the result aimed at by the good-natured Irishman,
and all was well again, for Charley profited by the
lesson he had received.

After an uneventful voyage they arrived at Rio
Janeiro, and during that time Mr. Villiers took
much notice of Charley, and permitted him to read
and study in his cabin whenever the captain’s per-
mission could be obtained.

Rio Janeiro, the capital of Brazil, is a town

_ containing about 200,000 inhabitants, composed of
whites, mulattos, negroes, and Indians, The last-





Full Text

The Baldwin Library

RnB ha



HENRY “STONE
+. W STRAITS:




Preparing for action. Frontispiece,
THE
GOOD SAILOR BOY;

Che Adbentures of Charley Morant,

BY

MERCIE SUNSHINE

AUTHOR OF “DOTTIE AND TOTTIE,” ETO., ETC., ETC.



London:
WARD, LOCK, AND Co.,
“Warwick Hovusz, Sarispury Square, E.O,


Hazell, Watson, and Viney, Printers, London and Aylesbury.


























































































PREFACKH.
er

\ HE following account of Charley
Morant’s Adventures Afloat and Ashore
needs little Preface. But one word
of explanation is necessary. The Tale,
“ which was originally written in French, has
be been adapted to English scenes and English
manners by



Mencre SUNSHINE.


CONTENTS



CHAP. PAGE
I, LANDSECCOMBE—THE MORANT FAMILY —

CHARLEY—THE HORNED SHEEP . 5 : 1

II, LITTLE FANNY—A MISADVENTURE ; . 12

Ill. A NEW ARRIVAL—THE BOX OF TOYS—
CHARLEY IS MISSED . . . : . 28

IV. CHARLEY IS RELEASED—JOB LITTLE VAN-
QUISHES THE FARMER AND PUTS HIM IN

THE POND . : ‘ ‘ - 29
v. A FISHING EXCURSION . : : ‘ . 86
VI. GOING OUT FISHING—THE STORM—DEVOTION

OF JOB. ‘ : . ‘ ‘ j - 46

VII. JOB’S RETURN—CHARLEY CHOOSES A PROFES-

SION—THE “JOHN BROWN” : , . 58
VIII. CHARLEY GOES AWAY WITH JOB—CAPTAIN
THOMPSON—CHARLEY LEAVES ENGLAND . 64
IX. THE “JOHN BROWN ’’—LIFE ON BOARD SHIP
—CHABLEY’S FIRST EXPERIENCES—BEE-
NARD’S PRACTICAL JOKES . % : - - 13
X. CHARLEY MAKES A NEW ACQUAINTANCE—
CROSSING THE LINE—OLD FATHER- NEP-
TUNE AND HIS COURT COME ON BOARD . 80
XI. THE STORM—MAN OVERBOARD—COURAGE OF
CHARLEY MORANT—RIO JANEIRO . 85

XII, THE NEGROES—THE IRON MASK—JOURNEY
INTO THE INTERIOR . 7 ‘ . - 98
viii
CHAP.
XIII.

XIy.

XY.

XVI.

XVII.

AVIII.

XIX,

XX.

XXI.

CONTENTS.

TUE EXPEDITION—A HORRIBLE BEDFELLOW
—ROAST SERPENT . . . . .

SANTA ESPERANZA—A COFFEE-FARM—BER-
NARD AND THE SNAKE—BUENA VISTA—
IN THE WOODS --MYSTERIOUS DISA PPEAR-
ANCE OF THE GUIDE . . .

A NIGHT IN THE WOODS—THE RUNAWAY
SLAVES—MADE PRISONERS—THE NEGRO
CAMP —CRITICAL POSITION OF THE
WHITES . . . . . . .

A GRATEFUL NEGRO—ESCAPE OF CHARLEY
—THE IGUANA—THE OUNCE- FRIENDS
AND FOOD . . . . . . .

THE MARCH TO THE CAMP—THE ATTACK—
ROUT OF THE NEGROES—BRAVE CHARLEY
—HE PAYS HIS DEBT TO MORABE . .

A GLIMPSE AT LANDSECCOMBE — MRS.
MORANT'S ILLNESS—GOOD NEWS FROM
SEA, . . . . . . .

SAN FRANCISCO—THE GOLD FEVER—DESER-
TION OF BERNARD AND SAWYER—DIS-
COVERY OF GOLD—WORKING IN THE
MINES . . . . . . .

THE TWO ADVENTURERS — THE BUSH-
RANGERS—DEATH OF JACK SAWYER—
BERNARD IN DANGER . . .

HOME AGAIN—CHARLEY’S FRIENDS—PRO-
JECTS—CHARLEY IS MARRIED—A HAPPY
ENDING . . . . .



PAGE

98°

105

113

119

126

133

141

150

158




















THE GOOD SAILOR BOY;

Ohe Adventures of Charley orant,

Reena eee
CHAPTER I.

LANDSECCOMBE—THE MORANT FAMILY—CHARLEY
—THE HORNED SHEEP.

NTHONY MORANT, Charley’s father, had
been a sailor on board one of the old
* wooden-walls,” as we used to call the ships of our
English Navy before ironclads, with their ugly tur-
rets, came into fashion. But being discharged on
account of ill-health, resulting from an injury while‘
afloat, Anthony had returned to his native village
situated on the south coast of England, and there
had married, and settled down as a fisherman at
Landseccombe.

1
ie LANDSECCOMBE.

This little village is situated almost on the sea
hore, and at the time of which we are writing,
consisted of about forty houses, principally occu-
pied by fishermen and their families. There was
a chapel which was well attended on Sundays if
the fish did not enter the bay, for then the men
went after the fish, and deserted the house of God
' to procure their means of livelihood.

But taking them altogether, the men were honest
and well-conducted. No unseemly brawls dis-
turbed the community; they were, as a rule, sober
and well-mannered, and if a quarrel did now and
then arise, it was honestly and fairly fought out,
and no ill-feeling shown by word or deed after the
fight was over.

If the men of the village were well-behaved,
the women were industrious. The houses were all
clean and neat, plainly furnished, and seemed com-
fortable. Some had small gardens attached to
them, the borders ornamented with shells placed
by the children, and culttvated diligently to raise
a few vegetables. Sunflowers, or some such grand
flowering plants, were occasionally visible, and
simple creepers wound about the latticed windows
and the ever-open doors.

Anthony Morant’s house was larger than many
of theothers; he also had a garden and a sort of
paddock, wherein grazed a cow, and two goats
THE MORANT FAMILY. 8

enjoyed life, except when they were chased by the
children, to be captured finally, and made to draw
a roughly-made cart upon the slip of sandy beach
below the high-water mark. You see Anthony
was, so to speak, a rich man. His fishing-boat was
the best. in the community, while he had the repu-
tation of being one of the most skilful fishers of his
time. His wife Marian was a good housekeeper ;
his home was always pleasant, and in short he was
as “happy asa king,” and very likely happier.

In due time the household increased, and three
children made their appearance in the following
order: Charley, the eldest, a great big baby, who
very soon was able to run alone; after a year or
two a dear little girl appeared, and they called her
Jenny; and then after a time another girl, who was
called Rose. These three children soon ran about
all over the garden and down to the beach, and ,
burrowed into the sand like so many marmots.
They were fine, healthy children, and all the old
people said they had never -seen their like
before.

They all helped in the house, and of a stormy
night one of them would light a candle early and
place it in the window, so that “father” might see.
the gleam. And he, running in to land in the
driving rain-or snow, or tossed by the great waves,
would catch sight of the tiny beacon as he ap-
4 LANDSECCOMBE.

proached, which winked at him as much as to say,
“Come in quickly—everything is ready for you.
We have a capital fire and a jolly supper inside
here. Your chair is waiting, and feels quite empty
without you. Your wife is anxious for you, and
somebody has dropped in to supper to welcome
_ you. back, and the children are looking out for you
through the darkness.”

This is what the blinking flame seemed to say
to Anthony as he entered the little harbour, and
ran alongside the jetty in the autumn and winter
evenings.

But afterwards, when the children had grown
older, they would go down to meet their father
when he came home from his: fishing. On these
grand occasions Jenny and Rosie would scramble
into his arms, and Charley, perched always on his
father’s neck, would chatter with Rose, as he
regarded with apprehension the great claw of a
lobster protruding from the fish-basket on which
he was seated.

At the time we commence our story Charley was
nine years old. He was strong for his age, but
heavy and dull; so much so, that the neighbours
had nicknamed him Lazy-bones. He ate a great
deal, worked very little, and reflected not at all. In
other respects he was a good boy: he loved his
parents, always told the truth, and was incapable of




































































































































































































































































































































































































































‘They would scramble into his arms” ( zage 4).
6 LANDSECCOMBE.

injuring anyone by word or deed. His great and
absorbing idea was to become a sailor. Meantime
he learnt to swim like a fish, to climb like a squirrel,
and feared nothing except the tricks and gibes of
‘ his sister Jenny.

For that young lady, though apparently small for
her age of seven years, was already a useful little
body ; she could sew and knit, and was of very
great assistance to her mother in all household
matters. But notwithstanding all these occupa-
tions, she still had time to tease Charley, and to
play him a hundred tricks, which showed him
that weakness might sometimes overcome force in
repose. Charley would fly into useless passions,
and devise all kinds of plans to outwit her, but he
never gained the “ honours,” nor could he even win
“by tricks” from his clever sister. Besides, he
found another opponent in little Rosie, who was
then four years old, and very winning. She would
throw her arms round him if he got angry, and he
was obliged to give in, for he could not resist her
attack. '

As he grew older, Charley was appointed care-
taker of the cow and the two goats, and a certain
norned sheep. In this work he had the assistance
of a great dog, which he named “ Nigger,” because
it was so black.

Nigger and Charley were great friends, Both
THE ECCENTRIC SHEEP. 7

had a weakness for the sheep, which was one of
the most vicious and eccentric animals in the world.
But she was also a beast of spirit, and quite able to
take her own part, particularly her part of the food,
which was generally the largest share. This was ©
not fair, certainly, and Charley rather regretted his
partiality when he saw the animal, somewhat more
than usually restive, turn her back and a deaf ear

_to all his appeals, and butt in a grotesquely half-
playful manner if “Nigger” approached. Unfor-
tunately, both boy and dog enjoyed these little pranks,
and so the sheep never amended her ways.

One morning, as Anthony was going out to fish,
he looked into Charley’s room, and found the little
man’s eyes wide open.

“‘ What! awake already!” exclaimed the fisher-
man.

“Take me with you, father,” cried the boy. “I
want to go out with you and manage the boat.”

“ Goodness me! Why, four or five years hence
will be time enough for you to think of that. But
you may come and help me carry the nets if you
like.”

Charley was quickly ready, and father and son
were soon joined by two other fishermen, Anthony’s
usual companions. They found the boat high and
dry upon the shingle, but she was soon got afloat,
by means of rollers and a hawser ; and thus, as she
8 LANDSECCOMBE.

rose and fell with the gentle swell, the sails were
shaken out and hoisted ;

“ Look here,” said one of the sailors to Charley,
“do you see that ships and barques have three
masts—the fore, the main, and the mizzen. The

’ foremost in front, the main in the centre, and the
mizzen at the stern. The spars crossing them are
‘the yards, and we hoist the sails by sheets and blocks.
You must remember this if you wish to be fit for a
sailor.”

“T am going to be a sailor,” replied Charley de-
cidedly, “and I know that already. I can tell the
bow from the stern; the prow from the poop; I
know that, starboard is right, port is left—larboard
some call it.”

“The boy is no fool,” muttered the man; and
old Anthony felt very gratified at hearing his son
praised by the other fishermen.

“J wish you would take me with you, father,’
said Charley. “I will be so good. Please do!”

But his father reminded the boy that he had the
cattle to look after, and wondered what the cow and
the goats would do all day if he did not appear.
What would “ Nigger” think? For the fishermen
did not expect to return till night, and that was
sooner than usual, for they were often absent two
or three days. Rose could not attend to the cattle,
because she was afraid of the eccentric sheep already
OFF TO PASTURE. 9

mentioned, and Jenny had her household work to
attend.to. Hach child had his or her allotted tasks,
So Charley, with a sigh, resigned himself to his
father’s decision, and contented himself with watch-
ing the boat till it was nearly out of sight in the
offing, and then he turned sadly homewards.

When he came within sight of the cottage he
perceived Rosie sitting outside munching a great
slice of bread and butter. Four or five hens had
gathered round her, picking up the fragments which
she occasionally let fall, and clucking vigorously
when she withheld the tempting morsels. The
sight of this excellent bread and butter made Charley
forget his disappointment, and he hastened into the
house feeling as hungry as a hunter.

“J knew Charley would not be long absent from
_ breakfast,” cried Jenny, half maliciously.

“Well, why should I be?” he retorted, in no way
ashamed of his opinions and appetite, as he pro-
ceeded to help himself to a very substantial slice of
bread and butter. This he immediately attacked so
voraciously that his mother had some difficulty in
finding an unbuttered spot near his mouth upon
which to kiss him!

“Now,” she said, “make haste and let the cows
and goats out; you see ‘ Nigger’ is quite impatient
to be off.”

“Nigger” seemed to be quite of Mrs. Morant’s
10 LANDSECCOMBE.

opinion, for he jumped about and barked loudly,
even pulling Charley’s trowsers in his anxiety. So
the lad nodded assent to his mother, for his mouth
was too full for speech, and followed the dog to
the shed.

Charley was not the only hungry one. The
eccentric sheep was also fasting, and had already
wreaked her vengeance upon the door, which she
was still butting furiously when Charley approached.
The goats were more patient but anxious, and even
the cow was moaning distressfully.

And now an accident befel the lazy one. No
sooner had he opened the door than the sheep
darted furiously out, and sent Charley rolling over
on the ground. His cherished bread and butter
flew out of his hand; and when he arose, furious,
to reclaim it, he found that the watchful hens had
pounced upon it, and were even then pecking at it

n all the enjoyment of fresh bread and butter. The

culprit escaped Charley’s vengeance ; but “Nigger”
was not inclined to let him off so easily. The dog
pursued the offender and bit his hind legs, as a
gentle reminder that “butting” his young master
was not proper conduct on the ‘part even of a
horned sheep. Off darted the goats; but the cow,
being of a more equable temperament, and of a
placid disposition, walked calmly to the gate in no
hurry to commence her breakfast, apparently.
LAZY-BONES: il

Charley brought up the rear; he knew it was
useless to pursue the sheep and “ Nigger”; and ten
minutes later he quietly sat down upon a heap of
stones to wait for his charges, which began grazing
quietly, while “‘Lazy-bones” sat still and watched
them, as they slowly passed on towards the pad-
dock.




































































































CHAPTER II.

LITTLE FANNY—4. MISADVENTURE,

T was early in May, and the fresh flowers
were nodding their heads to the soft breeze,
as Charley lazily munched his breakfast while re-
clining upon the grass. As he was thus pleasantly
occupied, a little girl of six or seven years old hap-
pened to pass by. She was a ragged little girl,
too; her feet were bare, her hair was matted and
tangled, and fell over her shoulders from beneath
an old black hat. She stopped before the lad as
he lay, and her large dark eyes fixed themselves
longingly upon the great crust that Charley was
just then breakfasting upon.
“ Ah! you have something to eat,” she muttered, as
shewiped away atear which had gathered on her cheek.
We are reluctantly obliged to confess that
Charley’s first impulse was to hide the remainder of
his breakfast. The little girl noticed the movement,
and sighing, turned away, saying, “I am not going
to steal your bread and butter; you needn’t beafraid !”










































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































“She stopped before the lad as he lay” (paye 12).
14 LITTLE FANNY.

17?

“ T’m not afraid,” replied Charley. ‘Look here
he cried.

The girl turned round and came back.

“«¢ Where are you going to?” asked Charley, as he
opened a sixpenny knife and gave it a preparatory
flourish, while he made up his mind as to dividing
his bread and butter.

“Tam going to the village,” she replied.

“ What for?”

“To beg, I suppose.”

“Has your mother no breakfast to give you this
morning ? ” asked Charley in a tone of surprise.

“T have no mother and no father,” replied the
little girl, beginning to cry.

“Wait a minute,” said Charley. As he spoke he
cut the huge crust in half; but he kept the most
“buttery” portion for himself. “What is your
name?” he continued, as the little girl began to
eat ravenously. ;

“Fanny.. What’s yours?”

“ Charley,” replied that individual.

Fanny, at this, seated herself upon the grass
beside the lad, saying, ‘‘ You are a very kind boy, |
Charley. Thank you very much.”

“Hold hard!” exclaimed Charley, rather con-
science-stricken when he thought of the dry part
he had given away ; “‘ take this.”

He cut off another, and the most * buttery ” por-
THE BEGGAR-GIRL, 15

tion this time, and handed the bread to Fanny in a
most patronising manner, feeling that on this occa-
sion, at any rate, he had done more than his duty.

“Tsay, this is good, ain’t it?” said the little
wanderer.

“T believe you,” replied Charley, nodding with
his mouth full. “Are you cold?” he asked,
noticing that his companion shivered a little.

“Yes, rather,” she replied.

“That's funny. Why, I’m not a bit cold.”

“ You've gotwarm clothes on; Ihave onlya ragged
dress and a petticoat,” she said with a shiver.

“T say, if you like we'll dig a hole and make a
fire, then you can warm yourself. Shall we?”

Fanny assented at once. She desired nothing
better. ‘That will be fine,” she replied as she
got up.

“All right then. Do you go and fetch some
wood, and I will dig the hole.”

“ But how will you dig it?” she said; pausing

“ With my knife, of course,” he replied.

Reanimated by the prospect, Fanny quickly
gathered some dried grass and twigs; Charley, in
the meantime, digging industriously in the sandy
soil. Fanny soon came back, and as she threw her
burthen on the ground, said,—

“How are you going to light the fire, after all?”

Charley straightened himself, and pointing with
16 LITTLE FANNY.

his knife, said, “Do you see that chimney over
there? That’s Peter Kenny’s farm. Well, you
must go and get some hot cinders from. the kitchen.”

“ But I can’t carry hot cinders.”

“Yes you can, in your.shoe, in sand.”

“JT haven’t got any shoes,” she replied.

“Why not?” asked Charley as he gazed at her
naked feet.

“Because I have no money to buy them,” she
answered rather sadly.

“Take mine then,” he said, kicking off one of
his thick shoes, ‘Don’t be long !”

Fanny ran off as fast as her thin little legs would
carry her, and after along time she returned with
Charley’s shoe, smoking with its load of hot cin-
ders. She appeared angry and excited.

“Those unkind people,” she said, “treated me
very badly; they wouldn’t let me have the cinders
at first, and called me names.”

Charley was rather surprised at this, for Farmer
’ Kenny was a very good-natured man, and often
gave him facilities for lighting a fire.

“That's funny,” was all he said however, as he
was just then busily engaged in blowing the warm
cinders into a blaze with the dry wood.

In a few moments the twigs had caught fire, and
soon blazed merrily.

“Now you can warm yourself,” said Charley, as
MAKING A FIRE. 17

he pushed the girl towards the blaze. “Can’t I
make a jolly fire, eh? Alan, the farmer’s son,
taught me to do this.”

“‘ Where do you live?” asked Fanny, as she held
out her hands over the blaze.

“Do you see that smoke rising yonder, eh?
Well then, my home is underneath it. Where's
yours?”

“T have no home,” she replied.

“Where do you sleep then? ”

“Tn the fields.”

“What do you have for your dinner?” asked
Charley, somewhat surprised again.

“Whatever I can get—when I can get anything
at all, that is.”

“Oh!” was all Charley’s comment, for the idea
of no dinner set him thinking.

“What are you thinking of?” said Fanny at
last.

“Look here,” said Charley, without replying to
her question, “I am going to dinner at twelve
o'clock. You shall come with me, and my mother
will give you some bread and milk—perhaps some
cockles, if we have any.”

“Tm afraid your mother will turn me away,’
said Fanny plaintively.

“Oh no!” exclaimed Charley; “ she- never
sends poor people away from the house. . One day

2
18 LITTLE FANNY.

Nigger—that’s my dog—bit a poor beggar, and my
mother gave the dog such a licking! Nigger ‘got’
it, I can tell you! In running away, he jumped
right upon the cat and her kittens, and gota
scratching there too. You should have seen Nigger
rubbing his nose after Miss Puss had scratched
him.”

Charley began to laugh as the comical appearance
of Nigger recurred to him, and the dog, which had
heard his name, came up just then and rubbed his
head against the lad’s knees.

While the two children smilingly caressed him,
a farmer who lived near at hand happened to pass by.

“What are you about there, lad?” he asked,
noticing the fire.

“Tm trying to warm this little girl,
Charley. ‘‘She’s very cold.”

“Good lad,” replied the man. “ Here, take these
and roast them,” he added, as he took half-a-dozen
large potatoes from a sack he carried. “Good day
tye!”

“Oh! thank you, Mr. Porter,” cried Charley,
delighted to receive this accession to his breakfast;
and he at once put the potatoes amongst the cinders
to roast.

While they were cooking, Charley and his little
companion continued chatting, and divided their
entire attention between the potatoes and the con-

”

replied
A PIC-NIC BREAKFAST. : 19

versation, so that the animals were completely for-
gotten. The white cow broke through the hedge,
in search of fresh fields and pastures new, and the
black goat was soon after her, enjoying a meal from
the young shoots of a neighbour’s trees. . And all
this time Nigger was so interested in his young
master’s conversation, that neither did he turn his
head to see how his charges were getting on.

This negligence was destined to have very un-
pleasant consequences for Charley, and, indeed,
for all the party; for the neighbouring farm had
only changed hands the day before, a cross-
grained tenant having come into possession in-
stead of the good-natured farmer who indulged
Charley so much. But Charley did not know this‘
and went on questioning his little friend with all
a child’s bluntness.

“Where do you come from?” he asked.

“From Lanceton,” replied Fanny.

“What was your father? Mine is a fisherman.”

“T never knew father nor mother ; old Peggy told
me they were drowned in a shipwreck.”

“ Who is old Peggy?”

“A poor woman in Lanceton who took care
of me.”

“Why isn’t she with you now ?” said Charley.

“She died—eight days ago!” sobbed Fanny.

“Ah!” replied Charley. Then he added
20 _ LITTLE FANNY.

philosophically, “ Well—but I say, there’s no
more wood!”

“She used to beat me sometimes,” continued
Fanny, sobbing ; “ but only when she had had too
much cider.”

“Well, you needn’t cry now because she used to
. beat you,” said Charley. ‘There’s no wood, I tell -
you.”

“T loved her all the same,” said the girl, without
heeding the interruption. “She was not really
unkind at other times, and it is so sad to be all
alone !”

“ Ah, it is rather a bore! But the wood is all
gone.”

Fanny got up at this and entered the neighbour-
ing plantation in search of some dead branches.
But she soon came running back, crying out, “Oh
Charley, quicy! the cow is in the clover-field.”

“ And the goats too?” inquired Charley, anxiously,
as he rose to his. feet

Yes, it was too true! Charley and Nigger
immediately ran off to reclaim the trespassers, and
Fanny naturally followed. But it was too late. A
great heavy lout about twenty came up, armed with
a great stick, and began to beat the poor cow most
unmercifully. Then suddenly perceiving Charley, he
ran at him, seized him by the collar, and thrashed
him in a most cowardly way. Itis true that Charley
“ TUB COW'S IN THE CLOVER!” £1

retaliated as well as he could, but his strength was
not equal to his desires. The eccentric sheep was
also of this opinion, evidently, for with a sudden
rush he came up behind the farm lad, and witha
vigorous shove of his horned head sent him spraw-
ling upon his face. Charley took advantage of the
opportunity and fled, but was quickly recaptured.
Then Fanny, weak as she was, came up bravely to
her new friend’s assistance. But, poor child! sh®
soon received a cuff which almost knocked her
down.

“ Ah! you young scamp,” cried the lout, who was
the farmer’s son, “T’ll teach you to let your cattle
graze in our fields.”

“Tet him go,’ zaticd Fanny; “ he will never let
them stray again.”

Charley said nothing. Proud like the young
Briton he was, he disdained to sue for mercy.
Nevertheless he was horribly frightened, and
trembled visibly when the farmer’s son, taking him
him up under his arm, carried him towards the farm,

Meantime Nigger, having gathered the cattle -
together, appeared upon the field of battle. . As the
sheep had done, he at once hastened to his master’s
rescue, and bit the farmer’s heels sharply; but un
fortunately the pain only served to enrage the
farmer still more, and he buffeted Charley leat!
till he called the dog off.
22 LITTLE FANNY.

“Tl lock you up in the cellar, my lad, and keep
you there for.a while without food or water; and
if you utter a sound Tl lick you! Hold your
tongue, do you hear?”

So thus poor Charley was sareiod to the farm,
followed by Fanny, Nigger, and the sheep at a
respectful distance from the man’s stick. As he
was thrust into the cellar, Charley made a desperate
effort to escape, but he gained nothing by it but
blows. The farmer’s son shoved him in, and then
let loose the watch-dog at poor Nigger. Although not
half the size of his enemy, Nigger defended himself:
valiantly, but was obliged to succumb at last,
greatly to the crue] man’s delight; and the poor
dog would have been killed if Fanny had not
boldly released him. Then recollecting that Charley’s
house was near the smoke she saw rising not far
off, she hastened thither as fast as she could.
Nigger, divining her thoughts, followed her; and
the cow and the other animals, which recognized
Nigger as their master’s lieutenant, followed more
slowly in the same direction,






CHAPTER III.

A NEW ARRIVAL—THE BOX OF TOYS—CHARLEY IS
MISSED.

E must now return to the house, where a
person had arrived who subsequently in-
fluenced Charley’s fortunes not a little.

“Does Anthony Morant live here?”. the
stranger cried, pulling up his horse at the door.

“Yes, sir,” replied Jenny, who was washing
some shell-fish.

“Ts he at home?”

“No, sir.”

“Ts your mother within?”

“Yes, sir; father is gone fishing.”

Just then Mrs. Morant appeared, and added that
her \husband would probably return _ that
evening.

“ All the better,” said the new comer, as he got
off his horse. “My name, ma/am, is Job Little
—an old messmate.”

“Oh! T’ve often heard Anthony speak of you,”






















“A collection of toys made their appearance” (page 26),
THE BOX OF TOYS. 25

cried Mrs. Morant. ‘You were on board the
Bellona, wer’n’t you?”

“T was, ma’am,” replied Job. “I’m glad Tony
hasn’t forgot me.”

“He often talks about you. Won’t you come
in? You are heartily welcome!”

Job Little dismounted, and hitching the bridle
over the palings, entered the cottage, where he was
speedily supplied with a jug of cider and some
simple food. While he was enjoying his lunch
with all the appetite of a man in robust health, he
made inquiries concerning his old friend.

“J thought you had three children,” he said, as
he gazed at the two little girls, who had by this
time become friendly (they had been rather shy at
first).

“So we have,” replied Mrs. Morant. “Charley
is out in the fields looking after the cows. He will
come back to dinner, you may depend upon that.
He never forgets dinner-time.”

“The reason I enquired is because as I came
along I purchased a few things for the young ones‘
and Charley must have his share, I see the box has
just arrived.”

“ Oh, let’s see them!” cried Rosie, as she caught
hold of the sailor’s arm in her delighted anticipation,

“We must wait for Charley, I think,” said Mrs.
Morant, smiling.
26 JOB LITTLE,

But sailors are very fond of children, and Job

Little could not resist the girl’s importunities. So
"he went to fetch the box which Jenny endeavoured
to lift and carry into the house.

“ Ah! that’s too heavy for you, my lassie,—let
-me bear a hand.” And thus the box was carried in
and placed in the centre of the room.

The opening ceremony was performed amid
breathless silence. A collection of toys made their
appearance and were quickly distributed, greatly
to the delight of -the little girls, who embraced -
the kind giver again and again, thanking him
heartily. ,

“What are you looking for?” he said at last,
noticing that Jenny was examining the box with
anxious eyes.

“I was trying to see whether there was anything
left for Charley,” replied Jenny. “Is there?”

“You are a good little girl,” replied the sailor.
“Don’t be afraid. We shall not forget brother
Charley.”

While the children were still admiring the toys,
and their mother was busy preparing dinner,
Nigger suddenly rushed in, one ear bleeding
from his late encounter. Instantly all was bustle,
and Mrs. Morant exclaimed, “Oh my. goodness!
something has happened to Charley!”

* Poor Nigger, how worried he looks!” said
TO THE RESCUE! 27

Jenny, stroking the dog, which licked her hands
caressingly.

Mrs. Morant was out of the cottage in a ates
and on her way along the path, when she suddenly
ran against poor little Fan.

“Is this the house where Charley’s parents
live?” she panted out, now out of breath with her
exertions.

“Yes, my child; what has happened to my
son? ‘Tell me quickly.”

Little Fan then related the facts of the case,
and:as she spoke under the excitement of the ad-
venture, Mrs. Morant’s fears were by no means
abated.

“Ah!” cried the good woman. “I have heard
that those new comers were not the best people in
the world, but I did not think they would hurt my
little son,—the wretches! I'l go up to the farm at
once.”

“No,” cried Job, who had come out and heard
the story. “Tl go: do you remain where you
are.”

But she insisted upon going to look for Charley,
and then Job said to Fanny, “ You can remain till
we come back, my girl.”

“No,” she replied ; “TI will go with you, because
if the wicked man should say that Charley is not
in the cellar, I shall be able to contradict him.”
28 SOB LITTLE.

“But suppose he should strike you?” said
Marian Morant.

“Well, it would not be the first time it has
occurred.” ;

“Tt shall not occur again if I am there,” ex-
claimed Job Little angrily. “ Well, come along!”

So, preceded by Nigger, who ran occasionally
upon only three legs, and accompanied by Mrs.
Morant and Fanny, Job set out to release Charley
from his unpleasant situation.














































CHAPTER IV.

CHARLEY IS RELEASED—JOB LITTLE VANQUISHES
THE FARMER AND PUTS HIM IN THE POND.

O one will affirm that it is an agreeable
experience to be shut up in a narrow
passage without light or food, and no prospect of
getting anything to eat or drink for four-and-
twenty hours! At least Charley did not appreciate
the situation ; but even his natural anger, and the
fear he was in of being kept a prisoner, did not
prevent him from knowing, from painful internal
evidence, that dinner-time had arrived. He thought
also of those delicious potatoes so nicely arranged
amid the ashes. They must be beautifully cooked
by this time, he thought, and how nice it would
have been to have shared them with little Fan!

In the midst of his gastronomic fancies Charley
did not forget certain other and more serious subjects.
He recalled with terror the farmer’s great stick, which
had resounded upon the poor cow’s flanks, and he re-
membered thegreatdog. Supposeitshouldfly athim !
30 THE CRUEL FARMER,

This last thought disturbed the poor lad very
much, and as the dog continued barking he trembled
violently; and when the animal came scratching at the
door of the cellar, Charley actually cried out interror.

“Will you hold your tongue!” exclaimed Mat-

‘thew the farmer, as he flourished a flail. “If you
don’t cease I'll throw you into the horse-pond.”
Charley was not anxious to fall into the company
of the geese and ducks, that were just then swim-
ming about in it, so he decided to hold his tongue
as he was bidden. But his fears were soon aroused
once more. The dog began to bark violently.

“What is it, boy?” said the farmer. ,But the
dog continued growling savagely, for he had seen
Nigger approaching, followed by Mrs. Morant,
Job, and the little girl.

“There he is!” cried Fan. “That is the naughty
man who put Charley in the cellar over there,” she
added, as she pointed to it, “and there is the big
dog too.”

“All right,” replied Job, “Tl have a word or
two with him.”

' “Oh, no! don’t go and quarrel,” cried Mrs:
Morant. “Let me speak to him first.”

“Very well,” replied Job. “Go first.”

Unfortunately for Mrs. Morant’s pacific mten-
tions, Nigger and the other dog rushed at each
other, and were speedily locked in a deadly strug-
CHARLEY IN PRISON. 31

gle. As in the previous encounter, poor Nigger
came off second best, and would have been strangled
by his ferocious enemy had not Job interfered.

“Call off your dog!” exclaimed the sailor to the
farmer, who was laughing at Nigger’s peril. But
instead of doing so, the man incited him still more.
So Job took up a thick flail handle, and wielded it
so vigorously upon the fierce brute, that he was
fain to let Nigger go, and rushed upon his new
assailant, who was quite equal to the occasion, and
with a few severe blows put the dog to flight.

“Leave my dog alone, you!” roared the farmer.

Job replied as angrily, and would have perhaps
proceeded to administer correction to the owner
of the dog had not Mrs. Morant stopped him.

“Sir,” said. she to the farmer, “JI have come
hither in search of my son, whom you have shut
up in the cellar.”

“Ah! so you're there, are you!” cried Matthew
shaking his fist at Fan, who retreated behind Job
for protection; and just then Charley, recognizing
his mother’s voice, called out,—

“Help, mother! Help, help!”

The poor mother hastened to release her boy,
but Matthew barred the way, and raised his arm as
she attempted to pass. In a moment he was seized
in an iron grasp, and his arm was gripped so
tightly that he was fain to cry for mercy.
32 THE CRUEL FARMER,

“Look here, let us talk over matters quietly,”
said Job, without letting go. “Noneof that! No,
you don’t stir!”

So while Matthew was making out an imaginary
case of damage done by the cows, Mrs. Morant had
- released Charley, who rushed into herarms. His
nose and face still showed traces of the rough
usage he had received.

“How could you have the heart to beat such a
child as he is?” cried the angry mother, as she
wiped poor Charley’s bruised face. Like all people
who have no good reasons to give, Matthew talked at
random, and spoke of the injury done to his fields.

“Tet us: talk this over quietly,” said Job, who
was never more angry than when he said this.
“« What do you value your loss at?”

“ Over half-a-sovereign,” replied the sulky farmer.

“ Nonsense!” retorted Mrs. Morant. ‘ Why, all
the animals in a whole day would not eat two_
shillings’ worth of clover.”

“Here, we'll settle it for half-a-crown,” said the
sailor, as he handed the farmer the money; which
was gladly taken, for it was not bad pay for no-
thing at all.

“And now, my fine fellow,’ said Job, “I’m
going to pay another debt.. I’m going to return
to you those blows you gave that boy—d’ye hear?”

“He threw stones at me,” cried Matthew, who,
CEL FOL

PSEA IID

SO
TO A

SSIS y Sy
SDSS
Li; z SEs



































































































































“ He set upon Matthew” (page 34).
34 THE CRUEL FARMER.

seeing Job taking off his coat and turning up his
sleeves, was not likely to misunderstand him.

“That is not true!” exclaimed Charley and
Fanny simultaneously. Carried away by his anger
Matthew launched a blow at the little girl. At this
Job could no longer restrain himself; he set upon
Matthew and pommelled him vigorously. The
latter, though the younger and taller man, had no
chance against the sturdy sailor, and in a very few
minutes the coward cried for quarter.

Just as Job was giving him a parting blow, a
servant appeared from the farm, and Matthew
called out,—

“Here, Frank! Come here, help!”

“Take care, Job!” cried Mrs. Morant, as tho
servant approached.

Job took the hint and rose. Then dragging
Matthew to his feet, he twirled him violently
round, and propelled him against the servant with
tremendous. force. Neither were able to recover
themselves, and they rolled over and fell plump
into the pond close by, greatly to the astonishment
of the ducks and geese.

Notwithstanding her anxiety, Mrs. Morant could
not help smiling as she saw the men scrambling
and clutching at one another in their vain attempts
to save themselves. When they at last emerged,
dripping, from the pond, they presented an in-
IN THE DUCK-POND! 35

describable appearance. Matthew, seeing Job
advancing with the flail-handle, thought it best to
beat a hasty retreat to the house immediately. He
was not followed.


































































CHAPTER V.

A FISHING EXCURSION,

OW, my lad,” said Job to the servant,

whom Mrs. Morant had known for a long

time,—‘“‘ now, my lad, let’s have a word. I didn’t ©

mean to hurt you, and itis hard that you should
suffer for such a master as yours.”

The domestic had already had cause to regret
his treatment by the farmer, but the wetting he
had undergone still rankled in his mind.

“Look at the state your master has left my child
in,” cried Mrs. Morant, as she indicated Charley’s
swollen face.

“He has hurt me very much, Frank,” added
Charley.

“Poor little fellow!” said Frank, the peasant
who had often made whistles and little whips for
Charley.

Then Mrs. Morant, in order to make amends for
his involuntary bath, suggested to Frank that he
should call at the cottage and have a jug of good
A KIND GIFT. 37

cider, to which Job Little said he would add some
fine West India rum, to show there was no ill-
feeling, The man had no objection, and promised
to call some time during the day, and then he went
home to change his clothes.

“Give my compliments to your master,” shouted
Job after him, ‘and tell him, as he doesn’t know
his neighbours, that my mate, Anthony Morant,
is a bigger fellow than I am, and if ever your
cowardly master touches the child agaia, he'll
thrash him within an inch of his life. Good-bye,
no offence to you !”

As they were returning to the cottage, Charley
suddenly recollected the potatoes, so he and
little Fanny ran to the place where they had made
the fire, and found them nicely cooked, and only a
little burnt on the under side. The children then
hurried after the rest, and they all sat down to
dinner together.

After the meal was finished, Jenny drew her
mother aside, and said, “Mother dear, don’t you
think we can find a frock for that little girl? I
have two: may I give her one?”

Mrs. Morant praised her little daughter for her
good-nature, but reminded her that she would have
to wear her best every day, and then it would be
shabby on Sundays. But Jenny persevered and
gained her point, and running upstairs, soon










































“Take it, it is Jenny’s gift” (page 39).


PLANNING THE EXCURSION. 39

returned with her every-day indoor frock,
which she handed joyously to Fanny. She hesi-
tated to accept it, and looked timidly at Mrs.
Morant.

“Take it, my dear,” said the good wife. “It is
Jenny’s gift.”

So Fanny took it gladly, and thanked her kind
friends, with tears in her eyes.

“Look here,” said Job suddenly ; “ we'll all. go
up to Lanceton and buy dresses to-morrow, and
other things besides.”

“That will be fun!” said the girls. “Let us
go ! oP)

But Mrs. Morant interposed. ‘To-morrow will
be Sunday,” she said.

The children wanted to go at once, but then, no
one could look after the cows, so it was suggested
that a fishing excursion along the shore should
be attempted, only Charley could not go in that
case—what was to be done ?

“Tl look after the cows,” said Jenny, ee was -
always most unselfish.

But the little Fanny now volunteered. “ Let me
go,” she said, “I can take care of them.”

“Then you won’t sce the shrimping,” said Mrs.
Morant.

“Oh, never mind that,” said Fanny ; “I am too
tired to walk all along the beach, and besides, my
40 A FISHING EXCURSION.

feet are too sore to climb over the rocks and
stones.”

So it was arranged; and Fanny was delighted
to have an opportunity of doing something for the
people who had treated her so kindly. Nigger was
rather puzzled at first, but when told to follow
Fanny, he at last consented, and went off with
her and the animals very sedately.

‘Meanwhile Job was preparing the nets and other
fishing utensils for the expedition. Both the little
girls and Charley were supplied with landing nets
to contain anything they might catch in the pools
and lagoons, and away they all went, after strict
injunctions from their mother to be careful, for she
was unfortunately obliged to remain behind to look
after the house.

We all know that at certain periods the tide
recedes toa great distance. On these occasions
such fish as do not possess an almanack are fre-
quently left in the pools amongst’ the rocks until
the tide flows again, and they can swim out to sea.
Sometimes these pools are deep and large, and
lobsters, crabs, and other shell-fish, as well as
flounders and flat-fish, live quietly in them without
troubling themselves about the ebb or flow. It
was amongst these pools that the children, armed
with long sticks, or with a sort of two-pronged
fork, went hunting about. They were fairly suc-
CHARLEY’S SUCCESS. 41

cessful. They managed to catch some small lobsters
and crabs. They captured limpets and star-fish,
and a sea-urchin, as well as some sand-eels and
several little fish.

But Job went out far over the wet sands, and cap-
tured many soles and small flat-fish, some of which
he would come and pop slyly into Jenny’s basket or
into Rosie’s net. Great was the joy and astonish-
ment when a flat-fish was found, for the girls could
not imagine how such a thing could have got in
Sometimes Job would drop one or two upon the
sand, and then the girls would race for it, Rosic
being generally the winner, as her little legs went
faster than her sister’s.

While Job was engaged picking up such fish as
he thought good, he heard a great screaming from
Charley, who cried out for assistance.

“What’s the matter?” said Job, as he came up.

“T’ve got an enormous lobster.”

“Pull him out then !”

“T can’t, he won’t let me go—oh! he’s pinch-
ing me dreadfully—oh!” and Charley screamed
with the pain.

Job only laughed at him, and putting his hand
down into a cleft of the rock he pulled out the
immense lobster.

“Here is the offender,” he said; and in-
serting a splinter of wood between the two






























































































































































































































































































































































































































































¢)ve got an enormous lobster’ ’’ (page 41).
A CAPTURE. 43

branches of the claw, he released Charley’s bruised
hand.

“Ah!” cried Charley, as he rubbed his fingers,
to his sisters, ‘‘see what a splendid lobster J’ve
caught!”

“ You've caught!” exclaimed Job, “why he
caught you! “You shouldn’t cry for such a trifle
as that, my lad.”

“He pinched me very hard,” said Charley;
“besides, I didn’t ery—I only called out for you.”

* Oh, very well—come along, here’s a fine dog-
fish,—we’ll have him too!” said Job

“Let me catch him!” cried Rosie, “it is my
turn!”

It was not so easy to capture this fish, which
was furnished with formidable teeth, and looked
so very savage that Rosie felt at first inclined to
retreat. But she was a brave child, and advanced
to bar the passage of the fish, which thereupon
opened his mouth and showed such terrible fangs
that Rosie retreated from the pool, amid the
laughter of her companions. This only stimulated
her to further efforts, so she quickly ran round,
and before the dog-fish was aware of her intentions
she dashed in and seized him by the back. In a
moment he was tossed into the net—a captive !

“Bravo! well done!” cried Job, who dispatched
the enemy with a blow on the head.
44 A FISHING EXCURSION, .

Rosie in her turn looked very proud, and was as
brave as possible, shouldering her stick like a soldier,
and was proceeding to take possession of the fish,
when Job said, “ Mind, perhaps he isn’t dead yet.”
* Rosié jumped back in terror—all her assumed
bravery vanished, and she soon found out by the
laughter of her brother and sister that the old
sailor was only playing her a trick.

And so the afternoon passed. They were all
very happy, but very tired, when they returned
home to supper and displayed their trophies, some
of which were cooked and eaten soon afterwards,
for the children were too tired to sit up for their
father that night. Fanny returned at seven o’clock,
having performed her task of shepherdess very well
indeed. Sheat once set about helping Mrs. Morant,
who was delighted to find her so handy and so
willing.
- Anthony Morant returned at high water, and
when the boat was sighted Job went down to meet
his old friend and to bear a hand with the fish.
The old shipmates were delighted to meet each other
once again, and the supper was a very merry one.

“Who is that child?” said Anthony, as Fanny
came in to assist as before. So Mrs. Morant told
him, and Job bore witness to her good-nature and
unselfishness. Anthony Morant patted her head
affectionately, and said a few kind words to her ere
SATURDAY NIGHT. 45

she retired to her little bed in the small outbuilding
which had been hastily fitted up for her.

Next day was Sunday. They all went to church
in theforenoon. After dinner Job produced more
pretty things for the children—not forgetting
Fanny, and afterwards they walked- along the
beach at low water, when Anthony and Job com-
pared notes of their former voyages together and
had a good laugh over old times.












































































































CHAPTER VI.

GOING OUT FISHING—THE STORM—DEVOTION OF
JOB.

Nae Anthony and Job were smoking to-

gether that evening, the former asked what
his friend’s plans were, and when he would sail.
Job replied that he had shipped on board the Mary
Ann, bound for Bombay, and would leave England
in a month, but he would have to be in London in

' about eight days to superintend preparations.

“* Meantime you will remain here, of course,”
replied Anthony Morant.
“Tf my stay will not inconvenience you pee



“Certainly not. Why, you are one of the
family; we can’t part with you.”

Mrs.’Morant and the children all re-echoed the
sentiment.

“And Fanny may stay also?” added Charley,
while Jenny cast an imploring look at her mother,

‘who was very willing that the little wanderer should

remain; and so all was happily settled, and the
THE STORM. 47

family soon retired to rest, as they had to be up
early to go out fishing next morning.

Charley, who entertained a secret hope that he
might be permitted to accompany his father, was
awake at daybreak, and at once jumped out of bed.
But unfortunately for his wishes, the fishermen had
already left the house, and by the time he had
reached the little quay the boat was some distance
out at sea,

Having thumped his head two or three times
with his closed hands by way of refreshment after
the disappointment, he returned home, feeling better,
let us hope, for the original treatment he had ad-
ministered to himself, and after a hearty breakfast
he started out with his charges as usual.

During the day the sky became overcast, and
the weather assumed a very threatening appear-
ance. The waves broke heavily upon the beach
with a dull roar, and the foam dashed up upon the
worn piles of the jetty. The wind increased, the
sea ran high as the tide began to turn. ‘Sea-birds
wheeled screaming above the cliffs as they struggled
to face the blast and were whirled away in the vain
contest against the rising wind. Soon a little knot
of women, anxious wives, for the most part, gathered
upon the pier, or climbed high upon the cliff to
scan the swelling ocean with’ tearful, loving eyes.
By-and-by a few of the smaller craft, which had
48 JOBS DEVOTION.

not ventured far out to sea, or which had put about
at the first signs of the coming tempest, reached
the harbour ; but fears were openly expressed for the
safety of the larger vessels exposed to the full fury
of the storm.

Before long the darkness increased, and. the
elemental war broke forth in vivid lightning flashes
and deep thunder growls; at first distant, the peals
became nearer, the flashes more frequent and
dazzling. The sea seemed to rise also, and dashed
with terrible fury against the pier, or roared upon
the beach, rattling the shingle in its furious onset.
Still, in the brief pauses of the storm, those on shore
swept the horizon for the missing boats, At length
a sail was sighted.

“Tt is like one of our boats,” the spectators said.

Then followed a period of deep anxiety, as one
by one the boats came tearing over the foaming
seas, now heeling over to the squalls, and anon
righting and plunging headlong into the waves,
which curved and foamed around the bows or
dashed aboard in spray. Three vessels reached the
port in safety, and making the total of boats seven.
Three more were still due, and Morant’s was one
of these. An anxious time, indeed, for those on
shore! .Towards evening another “smack” ap-
peared ; the mast had gone, and one of the crew,
a lad, was missing, carried away by a terrific wave.
MARIAN'S ANXIETY. 49

The survivors had done all in their power to save
the boy, but without success, and they had them-
selves barely escaped with life, to tell the tale
to the poor widowed mother, whose cup of sorrow
was already full.

“Has Anthony returned?” asked one of. the
last comers.

“No. Why?”

“ Because he was at least two miles to windward
of us, and I’m afraid Pe

“He has sound timbers under him. He'll do
well, be sure.”

“ Aye, aye; but hell have all his work cut out
to weather the Blue Point reef to-day on the
ebb.”

“Belay that,” said another; “here’s his wife
a-coming down.”

Poor Marian had heard what the men said, the
fears of danger and the well-meant warning. Pale,
trembling, and with a fixed look in her eyes, she
strained her gaze over the sea.

“There’s something beating up by the Barnacles,”
cried a sailor, who was gazing intently through a
telescope.

‘Where? Oh let me see!” exclaimed Marian ;
_ and seizing the glass, she looked long and steadily
at the approaching vessel.

“Tt is Anthony,” she cried.


























































































































































































Where? Oh let me see’”’ (page 49).




































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE BOAT—THE BOAT! 51

“God grant that he may be able to run in,”
muttered an old fisherman piously. ;

“Let me see!” cried a woman whose husband
was missing in the third boat still out.

“It’s Anthony, sure enough,” said a sailor after
a pause.

“Oh, may Heaven have mercy upon him,” prayed
Marian fervently, as she watched the boat now
rapidly approaching i in spite of the ebbing tide and
furious sea.

Before long the forms on board could be. dis-
tinguished. There were three men visible. The
crew was usually composed of Anthony, a sailor,
and a boy. On this occasion Job had accom-
panied them; who was missing? It was a terrible
moment for Marian, who, with the telescope, en-
deavoured to distinguish the features of those on
board. But in a few minutes she had seen enough
to assure her that Anthony was not amongst them,
and the poor woman looked around upon the faces
of her companions. Their pitiful, looks and evi-
dent sympathy revealed to her the sad truth; but
even then she would not credit the evidence of her
loss. ‘With trembling hands ‘she again raised the
telescope to her eyes.

The boat came dashing on, apparently unable to
resist the shock of each breaking wave; but every
time the taut little vessel rose and shook the foam
52 JOBS DEVOTION.

from her dripping deck as she struggled bravely
towards the shore. Job was at the helm, a hand-
kerchief bound about his temples, while his left arm
was thrust helplessly into the breast of his pilot
jacket. The lad, twelve years old, was doing all in
his power to assist him, while the remaining “hand”
took in the dripping sails.

On camethe boat; it was no use attempting to
make the harbour, so Job drove her upon the beach,
where in a short time she was hauled out of danger
by a hundred willing hands, aided by the waves
which had been hitherto soanxiousfor her destruction.

The boat fell gradually over on the shingle.
Marian rushed to Job as he descended, and cried,
“ My husband ! where is my husband ?”

“It has pleased God to take him,” replied the
sailor, as tears trickled down his cheeks.

Poor Mrs. Morant’s grief was painful to witness,
but Job strove to comfort her. “He died doing
his duty, like a brave fellow as he was,” said the
hardy sailor. “He was endeavouring to save the
crew of a boat that foundered, when the boom
knocked him overboard. I leaped after him, and
should have perished but for the efforts of that
brave fellow yonder,” he added, indicating the sailor
whose son had also been on board, and he put his
arms affectionately around the widow’s neck in a
vain endeavour to console her.
FATHERLESS! 53

Job and his companions succeeded in inducing
poor Marian to return home; but when she reached
the house which her dear husband would never
behold again, her grief broke forth anew. The
innocent caresses of the children also added to
her sorrow, for they could not understand their
loss.

“But father will come back soon, won’t he?”
said Charley.

‘Of course,” replied Rosie.

Jenny wept in silence; Fanny wished that she
could have taken the place of the dead, for she was
terrified at the catastrophe and its results.

Mrs. Morant was a brave, trustful woman. Her
piety and her deep affection for her children assisted
her to conquer her grief. After a few days she
began to go about her household concerns, and she
found great consolation in Jenny’s assistance and
sympathy. Charley also did his best; but the death
of his father had plunged them all into a sort of
stupor, and Charley would pass whole days upon
the beach, looking at the sea and wondering whether
father would ever come. ‘anny would call him
to his meals; but only one wud, “Father,” ever
escaped him at that time.

The boat was soon repaired by Job when he had
recovered from the injuries he had sustained, and

- then he went out fishing again with the man and
BA JOBS DEVOTION.

the boy who had been his companions that terrible
day. For, as Kingsley so touchingly writes,

“Men must work and women must weep.”

Indeed, there are still many such sad days; but the
devotion and courage exhibited on’ these occasions,
and the noble self-denial so frequently shown by
sufferers, should serve us for an example of true
Christian charity.

Job was an instance of this.

Job obtained permission to remain at Landsec-
combe; but at the end of a month, as he was
about to leave, he asked Marian what her plans
for the future were.

“ T intend to let our boat to Andrew,” (the sailor) ;
“he will fish and give me half the profits.”

“Well, that’s the best thing you can do; and
your son—what about Charley?”

“He is so young yet,” she replied.

“T was a cabin boy at his age,” said Job.

“ Do not press me now, Job; Iam so unhappy, I
cannot make up my mind to anything. Let him
remain at home for a year or so. I dread letting
him go to sea.”

“But he wishes to do so. Don’t be unreason-
able. He is a good boy, though rather lazy.”

“That is my fault,” replied Marian.

“Well, perhaps so; but we will talk of this again.”
CHARLEY AND FANNY. — 55

“Yes, next year, when you have come back from
your voyage.” : :

“ All right. But meantime, I beg of you to
accustom your son to a seafaring life. Let him
learn all he can. Now do be reasonable about this,
my good soul, and pray do not cry so bitterly. Try
to look upon this as the work of God; and though
hard to bear, remember it is His will.” ;

“Yes, Job; but when I think of what the sea
has already cost me, I cannot keep up as I wish.”

Job endeavoured to console her, and not without
success. During the few days that still remained
he put the boat to rights, and repaired it thoroughly.
He spoke to Andrew about serving Mrs. Morant
faithfully, and at last took his departure, carrying
with him the regrets and good wishes of all.

Next day, when Marian was. putting away the
linen, she found a small leather purse full of money.
- It was Job’s purse; he had given her every farthing
he possessed in the world.

After Job’s departure, everyone was extremely
kind to the poor widow and her children. The
curate offered to teach Fanny to read and write,
greatly to her delight; and then she, in her turn,
instructed Charley in the evenings when he came
in from the fields. She encouraged him and forced
him to learn hisletters,and soon, with her assistance,
he was able to read his prayers. Then the kind


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LDISP AND NS?



him to learn” (page 55)

«She encouraged
LEARNING TO READ, 57

curate, seeing how matters stood, took Charley him-
self, and at the end of three months the lad knew
as much as Fanny. He quickly picked up know-
ledge, and, furnished with a geography and an atlas,
he used to study hard during the day while he was
out in the fields minding the cattle, for that was the
only task his indulgent mother imposed upon him.




































CHAPTER VII.

JOB’S RETURN— CHARLEY CHOOSES A PROFESSION—
THE “JOHN BROWN.”

NE morning, some months after Job’s
departure, Charley had gone out to mind
the animals, but had fallen fast asleep upon a heap
of stones by the roadside. This, even for him,
very unusual laziness was induced by his toils on
board the fishing-boat the night previous, for he was
now learning the business of a fisherman. He was
very comfortably asleep, when he was suddenly
awakened by a fall, or rather by the sudden falling
away of the stones on which he was resting. He
opened his eyes,-and greatly to his astonishment
perceived Job standing over him. Charley jumped
up and threw himself into his friend’s arms.
After their greetings were over, Job asked
Charley what he was doing.
“‘ Minding the animals,” was the reply.
“Oh, indeed!” exclaimed Job. “Pray, where
are the animals ?”
CHARLEY’S DECISION. 59

“Why, Bellona is ” here Charley stopped
suddenly, for the cow had, as usual, taken advan-
tage of the circumstances and had wandered into a
neighbouring plantation. The other animals had
_ also gone in search of other pasture while Charley
was sleeping.

“You had better get them, together,” said Job,
“and then we can have a chat.” .

Job spoke very seriously, and his manner im-
pressed Charley very much. So he quickly collected
his charges, with the assistance of Nigger, and then
sat down beside his friend to hear what he had to
say.

“You are now nearly twelve years old, my lad,”
began Job, “and it is quite time you thought of
making yourself useful; not only for the present,
but in order to earn a livelihood. What do you
wish to become?”

“A sailor, of course,” replied Charley.

“You have quite made up your mind to that?”

“Yes, quite. I don’t want to remain here as a
‘armer’s lad, and besides ”

“ Well, besides?” asked Job.

‘When I am a sailor I shall be able to earn some-
thing for mother,” replied Charley.

“Bravo!” exclaimed his friend. “Spoken like
your father’s son. You willbe a brave fellow such
as he, I’ve no doubt. Now, if you have the reso-




69 JOBS RETURN.

lution to do so, we had better be off at
once.”

“ At once! To-day, do you mean?”

“In a day or two, Your mother works for you,
and works too hard. She is very indulgent, and you
must not be a burthen upon her.”

“ Do boys get well paid on board ship?” asked ©
Charley.

“ Ah! well. You'll not make your fortune the
first year, at any rate,” replied the sailor dryly, “‘so
you cannot count upon supporting your family
immediately. But you may be at ease upon that
point. You will be paid more as you grow older,
and meantime I will take care that your mother
does not want.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” cried Charley,
clasping Job’s hand.

“Will you sail with me, then?”

“‘Oh, Job, that is the very thing of all others I
should wish to do!”

“Very good, I will go now and prepare your
mother for your departure; she has quite enough
trouble without having to look after you, boy.
Rosie can mind the cows quite as well as you. So
for the present, good-bye.”

Mrs. Morant was very grieved at the idea of
parting with her son, but her heart told her that
Job was right, so she endeavoured to hide her
THE “ JOHN BROWN.’ 61

sorrow, and set about to make preparations for
Charley’s outfit.

We must, however, explain the circumstances
under which Job had returned before we continue
our narrative. Job had shipped for a voyage in
the John Brown, one of the largest traders be-
longing to the Eastern Ship Company, and as it
happened, two influential officers of the Company
had embarked also on the John Brown to visit
some of the branch offices in various localities
abroad. The captain had orders to conform to their
instructions, and the limit of the voyage was in no
way fixed. It might last a couple of years, or more;
but Job did not think it necessary to mention this
little fact to Mrs. Morant.

In consequence of the importance of the expedi-
tion, the Company were very desirous to obtain the
best crew available. Job, who had been known to
Captain Thompson for years as an excellent hand,
was of course included, and the good old sailor
had procured the captain’s permission to engage
Charley, having answered for him that. he would
make himself useful. It was further discovered,
that Anthony Morant, Charley’s father, had served
under Captain Thompson in the Naval Reserve,
so there was less difficulty in acceding to the
application so kindly made by Job, who had per-
mission to bring Charley with him. Captain








‘ Every time a storm came she was terrified ”? (page 65).


CAPTAIN THOMPSON. 63

. Thompson, being of the same county as Anthony
Morant, having learnt that the widow was in very
reduced circumstances, very generously gave Job
some money to be expended upon Charley’s outfit,
and despatched the trusty tar to Landseccombe with
instructions to bring Charley up to London with
him as soon as possible. The result we have already
seen.


















































































































CHAPTER VIII.

CHARLEY GOES AWAY WITH JOB—CAPTAIN THOMP-
SON—CHARLEY LEAVES ENGLAND.

YF] \HERE was no time to be lost. The John:

Brown was nearly ready for sea, so Mrs.
Morant, assisted by the captain’s gift, quickly pro-
cured Charley’s outfit. Meantime, all sorts of
anticipations as to Charley’s future were indulged in
by the little girls, who tried to comfort poor Mrs.
Morant by prophesying all good fortune for her
son. At last the preparations were completed, and
the day of departure arrived. All felt the
parting deeply. The brother and sisters kissed
each other affectionately, and Charley went out
by himself to take a melancholy farewell of his
Jate charges, which rubbed their heads against him
and seemed as if they quite understood the farewell
words he addressed to them. Nigger would not
leave his master for an instant. As Charley re-:
turned to the house, he met little Fanny. The
children embraced each other warmly and tearfully.

e ”
“GOOD-BYE, 65

Mrs. Morant and his sisters came with the travellers
part of the way in the van lent by afarmer. At
Lanceton they were obliged to part.

“Good-bye, my darling boy,” cried the poor
mother. ‘Good-bye; be brave and true like your
father. God bless and protect you.”

At length they were obliged to tear themselves
away. Charley and Job got up on the coach, which
soon started. Nigger ran after it, but was sent
_ back and secured by Rosie with her handkerchief.
The poor dog howled piteously as his master dis-
appeared, and when he was out of sight the sor-
rowful group returned to the house, which now
appeared perfectly desolate. Mrs. Morant’s grief
returned. The thought of her lost husband came
back to her with greater force. very time a storm
came up:she was terrified for fear that Charley was
exposed to it, though by that time he was far away
at sea, and probably quite out of that tempest which
blew upon the coast. But a mother’s heart is ever
alarmed for her children. Sometimes, when the
storm broke forth, Mrs. Morant and her daughters
would all kneel down together to pray for Charley’s.
safety, and they felt calm and reassured when
they rose from their knees.

We will not attempt to describe Charley’s aston-.
ishment on his arrival in the Metropolis, and his
admiration for the’Docks and the Pool, which he

5
66 CHARLEY GUS TO SEA,

described as a “forest of masts.”. Job was very
much amused by his remarks and observations, and
for a day or two took him about to show him a few
sights. After the third day, however, finding that
Charley was gaining more self-possession, he deter-
mined to introduce him to Captain Thompson.
_ Amongst the crew of the John Brown were two
men who had sailed with Job before, and who had
known Anthony Morant also. To these men Job
introduced Charley, so that he might have some pro-
tection in case of Job’s absence. One of the sailors
was a regular rough old sea-dog, and growled out his
words rather than spoke. He was also a West-
countryman, and his name was Peters. The other
was quite a different-looking man. He was an
Irishman named Connor, a cheerful, pleasant fel-
low, full of fun and ready for mischief or duty as
might happen. But these men were great friends
and almost inseparable companions, though so
opposite in appearance and disposition. The Ivish-
man was always teasing and joking with his
comrade, who detested a joke, and threatened to
thrash the merry Hibernian many times a day; but
he never meant his threats to be taken seriously,
as was well understood, although he did get very
angry sonietimes.
It was in a small coffee-house that Charley first
met these men. Peters at once accosted him by
CONNOR AND PETERS. 67

asking his name in a rough tone, and offering him
_some spirits, which Charley at once declined.
Connor, on the other hand, called him, and placing
the lad before him, asked him if he knew how
monkeys ate sugar in the East Indies. Charley
said No. So the Irishman called for some lumps
of sugar, and put one in Charley’s mouth. “Now
bite it,” he said. ; ;

Charley bit it, thinking this was rather a pleasant
game.

“Well,” said Connor, ‘have you eaten it?

“Yes,” said Charley, wondering what was coming
next.

“Then that’s the way monkeys eat it in the East
Indies,” replied Connor, laughing at Charley’s
puzzled expression.

“T suppose you'll be giving him chocolate and
ices next,” growled old Peters. ‘Bah! Here, boy,
here’s sixpence for you; now if you buy sweets
with that Tl cut you in pieces with a hatchet. Be
off, make sail! ”

Charley lost no time in going outside the door,
where he amused himself watching an organ-man
and his monkey till Job rejoined him. Then they
wentin searchof Captain Thompson, and fortunately
met him near the docks.

“So this is the lad, eh? ” said he.

“Yes, your honour,” replied Job
68 CHARLEY GOES TO SEA.

“How long have you been here ?”

“ Three days or so, your honour.”

“ Why did you not bring him to me at once?”

Job hesitated. He had kept the lad away till
his “ homesickness ” had in a measure worn off, and
till he was more himself. Job did not like to say
this to the Captain, who continued,—

‘You wished to form his character, perhaps. Is
that the reason you took him to that house yonder,
where he has learnt to drink and smoke, most
likely ?”

“Sir,” replied Job proudly, “I only took him
there for a few moments to introduce him to my
mates,—friends of his late father, too.’

“That is a different thing,” replied the Captain ;
“but you would have done better not to have gone
there at all. Ashe grows up he will be more likely
to imitate the faults than the virtues of those with
whom he associates.”

As he was speaking, Captain Thompson laid his
hand upon Charley’s head, and afterwards turning
to him, he said,—

“You have an honest face, my boy. You are
like your father, too; I remember him well. He was
a fine sailor.”

He then continued to talk to Charley, who was
able to answer with spirit. The Captain found his
first impressions confirmed. “ We shall:soon make






















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































“« You have an honest face, my boy’ ” (page 68).
70 CHARLEY GOES TO SEA.

something out of him,” he said. . “The shell is
thick, but the kernel is good, Can you read and
write, boy?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Charley.

* Do you know arithmetic ?”

“ A little, sir.”

“Well then, from to-day you may consider
yourself as belonging to my ship. Write to your
mother; tell her: that the Captain knew her late
husband and, will look after you.”

Charley thanked him, and touched his cap, and
Job made a bow as the Captain turned away. Next
day they went on board the John Brown. Charley
_was immediately set to work. The first day he got
on very well, the novelty kept him amused; but the
next day he found his work very irksome. Thanks,
however, to Job and his two friends, Charley man-
aged very well. To work properly, one must be
accastomed to work in other places besides one’s
own house. Children often fancy that they will
find more indulgence and liberty away from home
while the contrary is really the case.

Before Charley left the docks he wrote to his —
mother. The composition of this letter cost him
much time and trouble, for he had great difficulty
in expressing himself to his satisfaction, and the
letter took a long time to finish. Here it is:—
A LETTER HOME. 71

“My pear Morurr,—

“JT am very well, and I hope you are the same,
and also Jenny, Rosie, and Fanny. We shall sail
in eight days, I am working very hard, dear mother,
and sometimes I don’t like it; but Job says,
‘ Remember your mother, who has worked all her life
for you,’ so my courage comes again. The captain
is very kind tome. He tapped me on the cheek
the other day, but boxed another boy’s ears. But
Bernard, that is the boy’s name, is very funny; I
cannot help laughing at him, he says such amusing
things ; but whether they are true or not I cannot
tell. We have had one little fight; he is bigger
than I am, but I like him all the same. He can
smoke and drink spirits, but Job won’t let me try,
because he says you would be unhappy if I did, so
I won't.

“Now that I am growing up a man and see how
difficult it is to earn money, I understand how good
and kind you and father have been. I wish I could
be rich and help you, and then neither you nor my
sisters need work any more, but eat and drink the
very nicest things, and have plenty of cider. I would
have such a nice little house, and a farmyard, and a
boat on a pond. You should all be beautifully
dressed, and Fanny should always live with us.
I have a shilling in my purse, and want to send it
to you, but Job says I had better wait till I come
72 CHARLEY GOES TO SEA.

back. He and Peters and Connor are all very kind.
-tome. Connor tells such funny stories.
.. “We have plenty to eat, I assure you, and I often
wish to put some food in my pocket for sisters.
Tell Jenny to write me a long, long letter if you
have not time, and tell me all about home. Do
the animals obey Rosie? I have seen such big
cows since I came here, but the milk is not nearly
so good as oursis. Bernard says in some countries
the animals browse on tall trees; but I don’t believe
that. Tell Rosie to kiss Nigger for me. I always
ery when I think of him, but Connor says it is not
manly for a boy to cry, so I don’t now—when he
can see me. I wish I could give you a kiss, dear
mother. Tell FannyI often think of her, and I love
her because she is fond of you.

“Now as I have no more to say, I must stop
writing. I have been three days writing this, and
it makes me giddy. With hundreds of kisses to
you and all, dear mother, I am

“Your affectionate son,
“ Cuartey Moranr.”

Hight days after the despatch of this letter the
John Brown sailed for the Brazils.

ay.
yr PMNS 00
































































































































CHAPTER IX.

THE “JOHN BROWN”—IIFE ON BOARD SHIP—
CHARLEY’S FIRST EXPERIENCES — BERNARD’S
PRACTICAL JOKES.

‘\O those who are unaccustomed to sleep in a

hammock there are more comfortable rest-

ing-places than that Lit of canvas suspended from
the beams.

The first night Charley passed in his hammock
was, at any rate,a most uncomfortable one. Every
movement of the vessel shook him, and when he
arose in the morning he felt as if he had received
a good beating.

“Tt will be all right sixty years hence,” said Job ;
“you will not be able to sleep in anything else
then. Don’t forget, my lad, that you are lucky in
getting aboard such a vessel as the John Brown,
and that you have the chance of becoming a sailor.”

Soon after this they went on deck, where the
speed of the ship was being determined by the log.
This is a triangular piece of wood which, thrown
74 ON BOARD SHIP.

into the water, remains stationary, while the cord
attached to it is rapidly unrolled as the vessel pro-
ceeds. In about a minute the quantity of rope
unwound from the reel enables the sailors to
calculate the rate of progression. This is called
“heaving the log.” *

“ This is a very important business,” said Job to
Charley, “for we have to enter every day in the
log-book the rate we are going, our course, the
direction of the wind, any accidents that may
occur, what vessels. we meet; in fact, it is quite a
diary or journal of all that we note on board.
This duty is performed by the officer of the watch,
who is relieved every four hours.t The watches
are known, also, as starboard and-larboard watches»

* The log is so leaded that it swims upright, its flat top
and its weight preventing it from moving through the
water, though it will float. The log-line is divided into
lengths by knots, so that sailors can tell the rate by
observing how many lengths run out. Each length bears
the same proportion to a geographical mile as half a
minute to an hour. Therefore, by observing how many
knots in the cord are run out in half a minute the sailors find
that the ship is going just that same number of geographical
miles an hour. A geographical mile, or “knot,” is more
than a statute mile. So, a ship running twelve“ knots ”
is going about fourteen miles in an hour.

¢ The day and night are divided into “ watches,” lasting
four hours, except the time between four and eight in
the afternoon. This watch is divided into two, when
THE LOG. 75

according as they are on the starboard or larboard
side of the ship.”

“But,” said Charley, who was all this time
intently watching the log-line, “why are there
so many knots on the rope?”

“Have you noticed that the knots occur at
regular intervals? Very well. The man who
holds the cord counts them as they pass his fingers.
He then calculates how many knots the ship is
going in a certain time.”

Charley was pleased to learn this, and he also
noted, with great satisfaction, that there were a
number of sheep on board, besides a cow and a
goat. He felt quite at home now, and decided to
make the acquaintance of these animals.

Job, however, began to instruct his young friend
practically in the duties of his calling, and desired
him to ascend the main-top. To do this, Charley
was obliged to climb up the skrotds, ropes which
we have all noticed fastened like ladders to the sides
of the masts of all ships. The mast is not all in
one piéce; it is really composed of three separate
lengths. At the top of the pieces are little plat-
forms, called “tops.” The first platform of the —

change of men, or “hands” as they may be called, is
made in the “ watches,” so that the same men are not on
always at the same time every day. These two-hour
periods are known as “dog watches.”


































































Va
Zi









































































































“ Weaving the log’ (page 75).
GOING ALOFT. 17

main-mast is called ‘ main-top,” the mast above it
is the main-top-mast, and its sail is the main-top-
sail. The next mast is the main-top-gallant mast,
which is surmounted by the “royal” masts, and
on top of all is a button-like knob called the
“ truck.”

Unfortunately for Charley’s success, his young
friend Bernard had told him seriously that the
“ cat-hole,” an opening in the top (through which
novicés ascend, but which no. sailor uses), was
occupied by an enormous cat— which never quitted
its post by night or day—and the boy had added,
“Tt is accustomed to old sailors, but it bites
and scratches. any new-comer cruelly, so look out !”

An apprentice and two able-bodied sailors had
confirmed this statement, so Charley was in a
terrible fright when Job told him to go up to the
main-top-gallant cross-trees. He ascended the
shrouds very slowly, therefore, and Job told him to
go faster. As he got nearer and nearer to the “top”
his courage failed, and Job cried out, vexed at his
indifference,—

“ Are you not going up as you are told?”
_ Bernard and the apprentice were all this time in

fits of laughter, and Job seized a rope’s end, and
was about to follow Charley, in order to expedite
his progress, when the Captain, who was looking
on, cried out, — .
78 ON BOARD SHIP.

“ Are you afraid, my lad?”

These words, and this doubt of his courage, roused
Charley’s pride, and in another moment he had
passed the dreaded cat-hole, and was clinging to
the cross-trees. . He soon was ordered down again,
but before he had been on deck long a scuffle was
heard. The noise was caused by Charley and
Bernard. The former had at once rushed at the
joker, and was thrashing him, when the Captain
interfered and separated the combatants.

“My lad,” he said to Charley, “you must not
fight on board my ship. You should not be put out
by such a joke as that. You must take your turn
as others do. But, Bernard,” he continued, “ you
must be careful that your wit does net carry you
too far, or some day the master-at-arms will have
to pay you what you will deserve with his cane.”

But this warning did not prevent the volatile
youth from proceeding to other jokes as oppor-
tunities arose. One day he sent Charley to the cook
with a message, as from the surgeon, to desire him
to broil the wings of a flying-fish for luncheon. Un-
fortunately, the cook had got into disgrace about
the fowls he had lately sent up to the cabin table,
for the six'birds had come in with only four wings
and five legs between them. The Captain would
not admit that nature had been so unkind to
these particular fowls, so he stopped the cock’s
PRACTICAL JOKES. 79

ration of spirits. When, therefore, Charley arrived
with the supposed message from the surgeon to
cook two wings of a flying-fish, the cook replied
by a buffet which nearly knocked the boy down.

Charley returned very crest-fallen to his com-
rades, who received him with shouts of laughter.

“Well, what did the cook say?” inquired
Bernard.

“This is his answer,” replied Charley, generously
giving Bernard the blow which he had received
from the cook. A battle at once ensued, which
was quickly stopped by the second officer, who
ordered Bernard a caning by the master-at-arms,
which was at once applied, notwithstanding
Charley’s request to share the punishment, which
he said he deserved for haying been so easily
duped.

But Bernard, even in his suffering, tried to con-
sole Charley. “It won’t kill me,” he said; “ but-I
can’t help playing tricks, I wish I could. Look at
the consequences,” he added, as he turned his
searred shoulders: round for Charley’s inspection.
But the lesson was not lost upon either of the
boys. rs








CHAPTER X.

CHARLEY MAKES A NEW ACQUAINTANCE.—CROSSING
THE LINE—OLD FATHER NEPTUNE AND UJHIS
COURT COME ON BOARD.

NE day when Charley was working at his
arithmetic—for he had promised his mother
to do so whenever he could—Mr. Villiers, the Com-
pany’s Inspector, approached and asked him what
he was doing. Charley showed him his sum, and
the gentleman asked why he worked so hard alone.
““T promised my mother to do so, sir,” replied
Charley.
“Do you like reading?” asked Mr. Villiers.
“T think I do, sir.”
“Think!” exclaimed his new acquaintance.
* Are you not sure ?”
“T used not to like it, sir; but now I am begin-
ning to like it better.”
“Tam sorry I have few books suited to you.
But if you will come to my cabin I will see what I
can do.”
~~" 14511) WAND









“Mr, Villiers asked what he was doing” (page 8).
. 82 A NEW. FRIEND.

Charley thanked him, but as he was not per-
mitted to go aft except when on duty, Job was .
obliged to run the risk of punishment and take him
to Mr. Villiers. Charley had much improved lately, |
he had lost his sleepy look, and now appeared more
what he really was—a good, honest, and intelligent
lad. His frankness pleased his new friend, who
frequently sent for him afterwards, and employed
him in his cabin. Here Charley became very use-
ful, and at last quite won Mr. Villiers’ favour.
That gentleman gave him instruction in mathe-
matics also, and Charley did all he could to
please.

But about this time they were nearing the
equator, where, according to custcm, the ceremony
of Neptune’s baptism is performed on all who
have not previously crossed the Line. The Captain
gave the desired permission, and when the great
day arrived, the announcement of Father Neptune’s
intended arrival was made by a sailor dressed as
a postilion, who, riding upon a broomstick and
cracking an immense whip, sought an interview
with the Captain on the quarter-deck. The Captain
stopped in his walk; and, in reply to the courier,
said that he would ‘be happy to receive Father
Neptune and his wife on board. The postilion
retired in such a hurry that his great spurs. caught
together and threw him down, whereupon he beat
CROSSING THE LINE. 83

his wooden steed for having thrown him; and,
amid much laughter, he disappeared to inform
Father Neptune of the Captain’s pleasure.
Meantime, the passengers and ship’s onicers
were assembling upon the quarter-deck to receive
Neptune and his court. The Captain placed him-
self in front of the group. Soon a horrible noise,
made by a clarionette, a violin, some’ saucepan-
lids, and a small barrel used as a drum, announced
Neptune’s arrival on board. Two sailors in long
green beards, wrapped in cloaks hanging toga-
fashion, and carrying boarding axes, preceded
his Majesty of the Sea. Then Father Neptune,
who was no other than our friend Connor,
appeared. He was dressed in pasteboard armour
covered with gilt-paper. His long hair and beard
descended to his knees. He carried a trident and
a shield; a saucepan lid did duty for a watch.
His tender spouse accompanied him. She was
personated by the apprentice, and wore a short-sea-
green skirt and a tremendous bonnet made of paper
and covered with sea-birds’ feathers. She carried
a: doll, which she caressed unceasingly. Behind
Neptune and his wife came his attendants, all
fantastically dressed, dancing, and singing, and
laughing. As soon as Neptune approached the
Captain he commanded silence, and made a long
speech, to which the Captain replied and gave him
84 A NEW FRIEND.

permission to dip those who had not crossed the
Line before. “st
Amongst these was Charley, who had been warned
by Job not to resent anything that was done.
Charley promised. In time he was called, and,
seated upon a plank placed over an immense tub
of water, waited His Marine Majesty’s pleasure.
Neptune asked his name, and then read him a
lecture on the duties of boys on board ship. He
made him take a certain oath to be faithful, and
while Charley was repeating it the plank was
withdrawn and he was soused into the water. |
But while the sailors were amusing themselves
the Captain’s experienced eyes perceived symptoms
of an approaching storm. So the word was passed
forward to make “all snug,” and the frolics of
Father Neptune and his court came to an end.














































































































































CHAPTER XI.

THE STORM—MAN OVERBOARD— COURAGE OF
CHARLEY MORANT—RIO JANEIRO.

HE storm soon burst with great fury, and
the ship plunged fearfully, dipping her bow-
sprit into the sea, and throwing the spray high over
the deck. The sailors, except those whose presence
on deck was absolutely necessary, were kept below.
Mr. Villiers, however, insisted upon remaining on
the poop, where he stood watching the storm. At
length, an enormous wave struck the vessel, and ere
she could right herself another came along, and
breaking, dashed with terrific force over the quarter,
and swept across the poop. The sen at the wheel,
who were lashed to it, were able to resist the force
of the sea, but Mr. Villiers was swept away in an
instant.
“Man overboard!” was the terrible ery that rang
through the ship, and ere the word had been passed
86 i MAN OVERBOARD!

a second warning came: “Another man over-
board!”

It was too true. The second was our friend
Charley, who had perceived Mr. Villiers stagger as
the wave struck him, and with great presence of
mind had seized a rope coiled on deck, and leaped
after him into the raging sea. Fortunately, he was
a splendid swimmer, but the risk was very great.
Charley, however, did not think of that; all his
anxiety was for his benefactor.

Charley struggled manfully against the breaking
seas; but in spite of all his efforts, Mr. Villiers
seemed carried away from him. Yet both continued
to keep afloat; and at length, Charley, having
secured a life-buoy which had been flung over-
board, managed to reach Mr. Villiers, and both
clinging to it were ultimately picked up by the boat
despatched to their assistance. When he was
hoisted into the boat Charley was almost uncon-
scious, and his fingers had contracted so tightly
round the cordage of the life-buoy that his pre-
servers had some difficulty to unclasp them.

When he recovered, Charley was loudly praised
by all for his courage and devotion. Job and
Connor were delighted, while old Peters growled
out, “Ah, my lad, when I saw you eating the sugar
that day I didn’t think you had so much pluck.”

The worthy sailor had neyer yet digested that
CHARLEY’S PLUCK, 87

sugar, evidently. Charley’s heroic conduct was duly
entered in the log-book, and the captain congratu-
lated the lad warmly. Mr. Villiers, who had re-
tained his presence of mind in a wonderful manner
all through, was very demonstrative in his thanks
and praises to his young preserver, from which
Charley escaped at length and went forward, where
he was received by the crew with three cheers.

“Charley, my lad,” exclaimed Connor, who.
would have his joke at any time, “I appoint you
my Colonel of ‘Plungers,’ Horse Marines, if you
like, and this shall be your Albert Medal.” He
fastened a huge saucepan-lid to Charley’s vest as he
spoke, but immediately grasped his hand with a
warmth that told the boy that his conduct was
highly appreciated by his Hibernian messmate.

The tempest soon blew itself out, and then the
John Brown was enabled to lie her regular course,
from which she had been lately “ scudding” before
the storm. During the evening Mr. Villiers and
Captain Thompson had a walk on the quarter-deck,
and the quarter-master, who had the wheel, and
could not help overhearing something of their con-
versation, said that Charley was the subject of it.
All he could understand, however, was that Mr.
Villiers had some plan for Charley’s future employ-
ment, and the captain was rather opposed to its
being carried out. “ Let him grow up and let his
88 MAN OVERBOARD!

character form itself first,” said the captain. “He
will thank you later for having waited.” But what
was Mr. Villiers’ project? That the sailor could
not tell Job when he questioned him.

Charley, though a very good boy, had his faults.
Deeds of daring are common enough among sailors,
and after a few days Charley’s exploit ceased to
be spoken of, if not forgotten. Unfortunately,
when, Charley found that no one spoke about it,
he began to talk about it himself. This passed once
or twice without remark, but the third time, Peters

‘said to him, roughly, “Let us alone, will you?
Don’t come here talking about your doings; get
out, you young monkey.”

Seeing the lad was retiring, half-crying, Connor
caught him by the arm and said, “I must tell you
why Peters spoke to you so unkindly. What you
did the other day was splendid, particularly for a
boy like you, but you mustn’t be always talking
about it. very man on board has, I suppose, done
as much; and what a nice time we should have if
all were to be perpetually chattering about their
grand deeds, eh? Praise, my boy, should come to
you; don’t you seek it, d’ye hear?”

“ Because a fellow is brave he should not be vain,”
added Job.

“Yes, I understand,” said Charley, much abashed,
and nearly crying. .


























































































































































































































































































Because a fellow is brave he should not be vain,’ added Job.
90 RIO JANEIRO.

“Now look at me,” continued Connor, with a
smile. “Look at me. One day, in the middle of
the night, I saved a whole coach full of people,
besides three cats and two dogs, from the stomach
of a whale. You never hear me talk about that.”

“How did you do it?” asked Job, laughing.

‘“‘ Why, I spliced a cable round one of the wheels
of the coach. The other end of the rope I tied
round a cannon-ball, loaded the gun, fired it, and
so drew out the coach, passengers, horses, dogs,
and the three elephants 2 :

“You said cats just now,” said Charley.

“ Well, cats; but they had caught so many mice
inside the whale that they had grown as big as —
elephants,” said Connor.

As Connor told this story very gravely, everyone
laughed, and Charley more than any one. This was
the result aimed at by the good-natured Irishman,
and all was well again, for Charley profited by the
lesson he had received.

After an uneventful voyage they arrived at Rio
Janeiro, and during that time Mr. Villiers took
much notice of Charley, and permitted him to read
and study in his cabin whenever the captain’s per-
mission could be obtained.

Rio Janeiro, the capital of Brazil, is a town

_ containing about 200,000 inhabitants, composed of
whites, mulattos, negroes, and Indians, The last-


CHARLEY’S LETTER HOME. 91

named, few in number, and in condition miserable,
are descended from the original native population.
The number of negro slaves is estimated at two
or three millions. The slave traffic is now illegal;
but at the time we refer to it was still carried on, if
clandestinely, to the disgrace of humanity. The
language of the country is Portuguese, though the
white population speak French and English also,
very generally. Nearly all the inhabitants are
Roman Catholics.

Situated at the entrance of a beautiful bay, and —
surrounded by picturesque mountains, Rio Janeiro
with its single-storey houses offers in itself no en-
gaging prospect. The port is one of the most
beautiful in the world. . The town is extremely
dirty, and as there is no drainage system, every
tempest of rain floods the streets, and people are
obliged to remain indoors until the water has run
away, or been absorbed.

Charley’s first act on arrival was to post a long
letter home. This composition had employed him
for many evenings; in fact, it was a journal of
what had occurred on board, mingled with plenty
of admiration and gratitude for Mr. Villiers, and
a preat desire to see the dear ones at home.

They had constantly been thinking of him. He —
was the object of ‘all their dreams and hopes, and
the subject of all conversation. When Rosie got
92 A GLANCE AT HOME.

new shoes she wished Charley could see them;
Jenny talked to Nigger about his young master, and
in their daily prayers Charley's name was never
forgotten. Little Fanny, who was making great
and intelligent progress under the curate’s kind
tuition, did not forget her friend. She was rapidly
learning all that could be taught her, and occupied
herself about the house, or in working, or playing
with the other children, giving great assistance to
poor Marian Morant. The good curate did all in
his power, and even came to teach little Rosie and
Jenny when their many occupations admitted of
it. He was the true friend of the ae and
loved to speak of the absent one.

“You will see, Mrs. Morant, you will see;
Charley will make his way in the world. He isa
fine fellow.”

“Indeed, sir, he is,” she would reply. “ He isa
brave boy. May God bless him.” And the mother’s
heartfelt prayer was not unheard,

Qin
ea
eelig B ety






CHAPTER XIL

THE NEGROES—THE IRON MASK—-JOURNEY INTO
: THE INTERIOR.

OR several days Charley was permitted to run
about Rio with -Mr. Villiers, who seized
every opportunity to instruct his young friend.
He, in his turn, was thus encouraged to ask
questions, and so by his desire for knowledge ~
increased it. Numerous and very diverse-subjects
were discussed by the friends. Charley learnt all
about the discovery of America, and how Janez
Pinzon, a Portuguese, was the first European to
set foot in Brazil. He learnt also that Rio Janeiro,
founded by the Portuguese in 1556, ceded to the
Dutch in 640, and by them to the house of
Braganza, was taken by Duguay Trouin in 1711.
Charley’s commiseration was very much excited
by the troops of wretched half-naked negroes who
were obliged to carry enormous weights, and who
were treated like beasts of burden. One day Mr.
94. : THE SLAVE.

Villiers received some articles from Senor Parao,
one of his correspondents, by the hand of a negro
whose head was enclosed in an iron mask fastened
with a padlock. This was to prevent him eating
charcoal or earth, as these men will sometimes do,
and then they soon die. Sometimes the mask ig
used as a punishment, and this was the case in.
the present instance. The negro belonged to a
very rich owner, who had the evil reputation of
being very cruel to his slaves. One day this
planter had caused the negro’s son to be beaten,
and the poor father had endeavoured to save his
child from the terrible punishment. . Convicted of
having raised his hand against his master, he was
first severely flogged, and would have been put to
death had not Senor Parao been reluctant to lose
the poor man’s services. So Morabé (for so was the
‘slave called) was spared, but only from interested
motives, not from any feeling of humanity, and was
most cruelly punished by scourging, and then by
having his head locked up in the fearful iron mask.

While Mr. Villiers was examining the documents,
ete., sent down from the plantation, the negro had
told all this to Charley; and when Morabé bud gone
away Charley began to think how he might serve
the poor man, but was afraid to ask Mr. Villiers.

“ What are you thinking about?” said his friend
at last. ;


ra
i
(th x

i
un

il

Ais
oe





























































ri
S* Tf ever little white boy want me, I am his slave.’’
96 MORABE.

Charley told him Morabé’s history, and begged
Mr. Villiers to interfere in his behalf.

“Ah, you little diplomatist!” cried Mr. Villiers,
but his eyes twinkled kindly as he spoke, and
Charley hoped he would grant his request. Nor
was he disappointed, for next day Mr. Villiers sent
- him ona mission to Senor Parad’s plantation, and
the first person he met was Morabé, and free from
his iron mask.

The slave ran to Charley and thanked him warmly
for his kindness, saying, “If ever little white boy
want me, I am his slave.” Charley was very happy
to see the negro free from his terrible mask, but
he did not fancy he would ever require Morabé’s
assistance.

One day after this Mr. Villiers, as the Company’s
Inspector, proposed an expedition into the interior ;
and as part of the journey was to be accomplished
by water, the captain put a boat at the disposal of
the party. Job and Connor were naturally in-
cluded in it. Charley also obtained permission to
go. Mr. Noel went in command, and Martin
Gautier, the surgeon, also made one of the party.

The trip in the boat had nothing novel about
it. The party landed close by the little town of
San Juan, situated about forty leguas, or nearly
a mile, from Rio Janeiro. Mr. Villiers and the -
surgeon rested at the hotel, if such it could be
FORWARD! 97

called, for there was nothing to eat or to drink,
and vermin abounded. The inspector was assured
that the route onward was safe; but as some escaped
negroes had hidden themselves. on that side, Mr.
Villiers had taken his precautions. They reached
San Juan that evening, and ordered mules for their
further progress at daylight next morning.






CHAPTER XIII

THE EXPEDITION —A HORRIBLE BEDFELLOW —
ROAST SERPENT.

HE escort was composed of Job, Peters, and
his friend Connor, the apprentice, and
Charley, and Bernard. Mr. Villiers fearing delay
and the effects of the heat, had ordered mules
(or horses) for the whole party, although sailors
are not generally remarkable for horsemanship.
But Connor declared he could mount anything,
so they brought him a tall animal, which possessed
no tail whatever, but on the other hand, it had
an unusual complement of bones, which stuck
out all over it. The horse was very. vicious-look-
ing, and put his ears back in a by no means_
reassuring manner. Connor, however, did not
trouble himself about these symptoms, but essayed
to climb into the saddle.
“Why, you are getting up on the right side of
that horse!” cried his friend.
THE EXPEDITION. 99

“Exactly,” replied Connor; “that is my patent
way of mounting. I invented it.”

But the horse evidently was not aware of it.
He took it as a personal insult that any one should
get up on his back the wrong way. So he began
turning round and round to avoid his would-be
rider, champing his bit, and nodding his head in a
very determined manner.

“T will mount him. somehow,” exclaimed Con-
nor, “if I have to jump over his head. Tl
do it.”

At length, by watching his opportunity, he
managed to fling himself into the saddle like a
sack of corn. ‘The horse immediately walked for-

‘ward, kicking and throwing his legs about as if
he were tired of them, and wanted ‘to throw them
away.

This manner of proceeding did not assist Connor
much in his endeavours to sit upright. But at
length he succeeded, but was not able to reach the
stirrups, which were too long for his legs. So he
clung on like a monkey, shoulders and knees all
“bunched up” together.

Bernard, somehow or other, had fastened a great
spur to one of his shoes, and though warned by the
guide to take it off, he persisted in xetaining it.
The moment that the mule felt the spur—on one
side only—he began to rear. Bernard held on
100 OPSET.

tightly for a time, but in his efforts to retain his
seat he lost control of his legs. The consequence
was, that the more the mule plunged the more it
was goaded with the spur, and at last the animal
set off at a gallop, Bernard vainly tugging at the
bridle as if it were a rope.

Poor Peters, though perfectly innocent of this
spur business, fell a victim to it also. His mule
was a stable companion and a great friend of
Bernard’s mule, and no sooner had the latter
started, than Peters’s steed followed. The unfortu-
nate rider dropped the reins, and held on tightly
by the mane and by the saddle, and in this elegant
ard graceful manner disappeared from the gaze of
the spectators. In about an hour the three fugitives
were again united, equally unfortunate. Connor
was rubbing his bruised knees, Bernard was lament-
ing his scratched face, for the mule had deposited
him in a bramble hedge. Old Peters had fallen soft,
as he expressed it, and though very much shaken,
was not hurt. He felt his limbs and rubbed his
joints, believing that they were all more or less
broken or put out, chattering all the time. ;

“You are very lucky to get off so easily,” he
said to Bernard. “You ovght to be thankful you
were not killed.”

“Thank you,” replied Bernard.

“If you had not been hurt I think I would
THE EXPEDITION. — 101

have given you a sound thrashing for your con-
duct.”

“So as to complete my pleasure, I suppose,”
replied the lad, as he edged away from the for-
midable fingers which were approaching his ears in
a disagreeably intimate manner.

But Peters had had enough of his mule for that
day, and scarcely mounted him again except under
protest. JIe led it along by the bridle, and from
time to time would turn round to endeavour to
quicken its pace with a few chosen words, of which
the animal took no notice whatever.

“Why don’t you address him in Portuguese?”
said Connor. ‘“Hle can’t understand English, of
course.”

Connor, however, had let his steed have its own
way, and the result was they got along very well
together. Charley, too, like most west-country men,
had some idea of riding; and as the surgeon was an
exccllent horseman, and gave the lad some useful
assistance, Charley managed very well indeed.

At length the cavalcade arrived at the farm
(fazenda), attached to which was a large manioc
plantation. Manioc is the substitute for corn in
Brazil, and its cultivation has a certain importance.
It bears red flowers in the summer; the seed is
whitish; the roots are, in shape, like immense carrots,
but the colour of potatoes. They contain a juice
102 ON THE JOURNEY.

which is deadly poison, but wlen heated the poison
disperses. The powdered roots make cassava-bread.
This manioc and the carna secca, or dried flesh, form
the principal food of the negroes.

The farmer invited the travellers to dinner.
Mr. Villiers would gladly have asked Charley to
eat at: the same table with himself, but this would
have been contrary to ships’ discipline, which the
captain had pointed out to him before he left. But
Mr. Villiers particularly recommended Charley to
the host’s notice. The Brazilians are very hos- -
pitable, and our travellers were well treated. The
dessert was unusually good. There were numerous
species of fruit, of which Charley did not know
even the name. He would gladly have made ac-
quaintance with them all, but-the surgeon warned
him not to indulge in too much fruit. Job and
Connor, however, did not take the doctor’s advice,
and suffered in consequence.

After they left the hospitable farmer’s residence,
they met a man from whom they inquired the way
to Buena Vista, which was about a dozen leguars
from the plantation of Sefor Corvisto. The man
had stopped them, seeing the pain from which Job
‘and Connor were suffering, and indicated to them
- aremedy. So they entered into conversation with
this person, who turned out to be chief of a mule-
convoy, or truppa.
THE EXPEDITION. ~ 108

When they inquired about Buena Vista, the man
appeared uneasy, hesitated, and furtively looking
about him, replied, “‘ There ares a number of fugitive
slaves about here, so take care.’

“Are they dangerous to travellers?” asked
Mr. Villiers.

“ Notas a rule; they generally keep in the forests,
out of sight. But lately they have been joined by
three ruffians, and under their leadership I think
the men are dangerous ;” and as two negroes then
came up the mulatto retired quickly.

Mr.. Villiers consulted the guide, who laughed.
“He is only an. old silly fellow, and wanted a
gratuity, your excellency. Fugitive slaves seldom
or never attack whites, even when alone. They
are too much afraid of showing themselves, poor
creatures !”

But, notwithstanding all their efforts, the travel-
lers could not gain the plantation of Senor Corvisto
that night, so they were obliged. to camp out. In
the middle of the night Charley was-aroused by
feeling a cold sensation in his leg: he put his hand
down, and felt a slimy, cold body. It was a serpent
that had glided beneath the blanket.

Charley jumped up and ran away, but Job fear-
lessly went to the place, and found the serpent
fast asleep, and unconscious of any harm. Job and
Connor were about to kill the reptile with their
104 EATING THE SNAKE.

sticks, when two negro servants stopped them. One
negro then seized the snake by the neck, while the
other killed it by hammering its head with a large
stone.

“Tiis dead. We eat li,” said the negro, laugh-
ing, and displaying his white teeth.

“You eat, serpents?” exclaimed Charley, in as-
tonishment.

“Yes; i good. Then we give skin to Sefor
yonder,” replied the man, indicating Mr. Villiers.

And not long afterwards they gave Mr. Villiers
the present, not that they thought it of any value,
but they counted upon a reward from the generous
stranger, and were not disappointed. The serpent
was of a common kind, and not venomous.
| ‘Perhaps it would not be bad in an Irish stew,”
said Connor, as he watched the negroes preparing
the sriake for their breakfast.










CHAPTER XIV.

SANTA ESPERANZA—A COFFED-FARM—BERNARD AND
THE SNAKE—BUENA VISTA—IN THE WOODS—
MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF THE GUIDE.

ee party arrived next day at St. Esperanza,
Sehor Corvisto’s residence. The owner was
reported to be very rich, and possessed, it was
said, five hundred slaves. By the number of these
unfortunate creatures a man’s wealth was esti-
mated, each slave being worth about fifty pounds,
though women and children were less costly.
' Charley was horrified to hear of the sale of human
beings, and was much surprised to hear the slaves
singing, apparently quite happy, and without any
appearance of the wretchedness we in Europe
suppose. It is their master’s interest to keep
them. in good health, and in sickness they are
frequently much better tended than our poor at
home.
Senor Corvisto’s house was large, but not well
106 THE SERPENTS.

kept, and the gardens were also untidy. Coffee-
planting was carried on on a large scale in the
surrounding hills. Mr. Villiers, followed by Charley,
Bernard, and Connor, went out to inspect the plan- ~
tations and mode of culture. The negroes were
working cheerfully, notwithstanding the great heat
of the sun, and Mr. Villiers was: much interested
‘in watching the animated picture they presented.
Bernard and Charley amused themselves, and
helped the labourers by plucking the shells or pods
containing the coffee. Bernard perceived a nice.
collection of plants in a corner, which appeared to
have been overlooked, so he wended his. way thither
in spite of warnings from the negroes and the
overseer. But scarcely had he penetrated amongst
the plants than cries of distress were heard, and
Charley was hastening to his friend’s assistance,
when the overseer galloped up, and pushing him
roughly aside, told him to go back. Then the over-
seer, who was a mulatto, leaped from his horse
and hastened forward. While the man was absent
the slaves standing by told Charley that in planta-
tions like St. Esperanza, in which serpents abound,
the labourérs always relinquish to them a corner
of the field. As the reptiles usually retreat before
the advance of man, they retire by degrees to the
corner as the work of picking goes on, and when
all the crop but that in that particular corner has
THE INSPECTION. 107

been safely got in, then the serpents are attacked
with fire, and driven out altogether for. the
season.

The overseer soon reappeared, holding Bernard
by thé arm by one hand, and carrying a green
snake in the other,—the sight of the latter causing
great consternation amongst the slaves, for it was
of a most deadly species. The serpent had bitten
Bernard in the leg, and he had stunned it with a
blow of his iron-shod stick. The mulatto had then
killed the reptile, but with some difficulty, as these
animals die hard.

Bernard, although he was no coward, was utter-
ing agonizing cries, and kept asking piteously of
the overseer whether he thought the bite would
prove mortal.

“TI hope not,” replied the man; “ luckily for
you, most of the vemon is still in your trowsers.
‘We must cauterize your wound at once, and we
' may thus be able to stop the action of the poison
in your blood.” .

The mulatto was not very consolatory in his
remarks, but he did not confine himself to specula-
tions. While Bernard took off his trowsers, he
got ready a pocket-knife, and procured a phial of
nitric acid which Mr. Villiers carried in his medicine
chest. | With this he cauterized the flesh and wound.
Then masticating some particular leaves which the




MR. HOFEN, . 109

negroes had gathered, he made a kind of poultice,
and putting it on the wound, tied it up tightly
with a handkerchief.

Charley watched the operation—which Bernard
bore unflinchingly—with fear and curiosity.

“You see,” said Mr. Villiers, “what the con-
sequences may be if you will persist in going into
places you are forbidden to enter.”

“ Poor fellow,” said Charley, “I hope he won’t
die.” ; ;

“You may be easy on that score,” replied the
inspector ; “the cauterization has been done so
quickly that there is no danger.”

At sunset the negroes left off work, and marched
back to the house. The-roll was called, and after
prayer they all went to supper.

Mr. Villiers wished to visit a plantation called
Buena Vista, which belonged to a German gentle-
man, Mr. Hofen. His property was surrounded
by a deep belt of forest, and situated near a small
river, by means of which the timber was floated
down to the sea direct from the estate. Mr. Cor-
visto advised Mr. Villiers to take for guides some
Indians who had passed the night at the plantation.
These men were in search of two runaway slaves.
They had been following the trail for three days,
and felt certain of finding the fugitives. These
Indians are. called Pouris, and are of a copper
110 THE INSPECTION.

colour. They live in the most miserable way, for
they will never do any work unless forced by
starvation to labour for their bare sustenance.

Mr. Corvisto having guaranteed their fidelity,
Mr. Villiers and his party, except Bernard, who
was on the sick-list, set out. After proceeding
. some distance the Indians divided, two only remain-
ing with Mr. Villiers. The other four went scout-
ing through the forest on the trail of the runaways;
a mulatto and a Brazilian accompanied them. But
Mr. Villiers’ guides performed their task faithfully,
and led the party to Mr. Hofen’s house in safety.
_ Mr. Hofen and some of his people were absent
also on a slave-hunting expedition, for the run-
aways had stolen some of his cattle. Meantime
Mr. Villiers began his inspection, and chose Charley
and Connor to accompany him. The surgeon went
off by himself to study botany, and the lieutenant
preferred to remain quietly in the house.

Mr. Villiers soon found some valuable specimens
of the trees he had come in search of, and brought
away cuttings, etc., which were given to Connor
'. to carry on his broad shoulders. One of Mr. Hofen’s
negroes was their guide.

One day, during their sojourn at Buena Vista,
Mr. Villiers was in the depths of the forest, the
guide haying gone to collect some fruits, when a
noise of breaking branches was heard, and a cry
WHAT IS THIS? 211

attracted Charley’s attention. The lad hurried in
the direction whence the cry proceeded, but seeing
nothing returned to Mr. Villiers.

Shortly afterwards Mr. Villiers called his guide,
hut to his repeated cries and signals no answer was
returned.

“We must wait, I suppose,” said the inspector.

They waited accordingly, but the guide, Serouma,
did not return.

Mr. Villiers, Connor, and Charley, now shouted
again with all the strength of their lungs, and at
last started in search of the missing man.

A few hundred paces away they noticed that
branches and leaves were scattered upon the ground.
They made for the spot. “Oh, look here!” exclaimed
Charley, who was a little in advance.

“‘ What is it?” cried Mr. Villiers.

“It is blood,” replied Charley, indicating spots

“upon the leaves.

‘“‘ Here is more of it,” added Connor.

“Something has happened to poor Serouma,”
exclaimed Mr. Villiers, who had become very
anxious.

The party now searched for further traces, but
could not find any. They frequently halted and
called aloud for the guide, but no answer came.
The sun began to descend in the western sky, and
in that climate night falls quickly.
112 THE RETURN.

“We must return to Buena Vista,” said Mr.
Villiers. “I only hope we shall ‘be able to find
the way thither,” he muttered, as he stepped for-
ward on his doubtful path.




CHAPTER XV.

A NIGHT IN THE WOODS—THE RUNAWAY SLAVES—
MADE PRISONERS—THE NEGRO CAMP—CRITICAL
POSITION OF THE WHITES. ‘

NFORTUNATELY, none of the party had
taken any note of the way they had come .
through the wood. They had depended so entirely
upon the guide, that now they were at a loss, and
could not distinguish the signs of a track which the
experienced eyes of the Indian would have at
once recognised. They were lost. Night fell, and
the growling of wild beasts became audible. Mr.
Villiers dissembled his anxiety so as not to alarm
the others. ‘We must give up all hope of reach-
ing Buena Vista to-night,” he said. ‘Are you
afraid, Connor?”
“No, sir, but—perhaps.we may be devoured by
lions.”
“Well, let us make a fire; that will be the best
8
114 A CONSULTATION.

way to keep off wild beasts,” replied the inspector.’
“ Are you hungry, Charley?”

Charley sighed deeply. It must be a very dan-
gerous adventure, indeed, to subdue his appetite.

Connor carried the provisions, but little was
left, for the whole party had made a very hearty
meal at midday, and nothing but a few ship’s
biscuits and a slice or two of cold meat remained.
These were divided, and Connor set about gather-
ing wood for the fire. Charley went off in search
of fruit, but as he did not dare to venture far, his
success was not great.

While the boy was away Mr. Villiers asked
Connor what he thought of the guide’s sudden
disappearance.

“T think he was carried off by wild beasts,”
replied Connor.

“We should have found traces of the animals
or pieces of the man’s dress in that case,” replied
' Mr. Villiers.

“Then robbers must have killed him, or perhaps
savages carried him off,” said Connor.

“Or runaway slaves,” said the inspector, lower-
ing his voice as Charley returned.

Notwithstanding their anxiety, the three Euro~
poans felt their eyes very heavy. So they decided
.o sleep whilc one kept watch, Mr. Villiers volun-
teering for the first watch. Charley and Connor
















































































































































“ 6 Dogs of strangors’ he said” (pa_e 117),


116° IN THE WOODS.

were soon sleeping soundly by the fire, and Mr.
Villiers, pistol in hand, sat listening, eager to catch
the least sound of alarm. Thus two long hours
passed away, and nothing occurred.

But Mr. Villiers’ anxiety would have been still
greater had he been aware that within a few paces
a crawling circle of negroes was slowly contracting
around him and his companions. Before long the
more advanced arrived within the gleam of the fire.
A piercing cry resounded through the forest, and
at the signal the blacks stood upright and dashed
upon the white men. Resistance, even if possible,
would have been useless. In a moment the travel-
lers were bound and flung helpless upon the shoulders
- of the negroes, who carried them away through the ~
forest. Brambles scratched their hands and faces
cruelly, boughs came into contact with their heads
and limbs, inflicting heavy blows, but all these were
disregarded by the prisoners in their great anxiety.

After a long and painful journey their captors
reached, a clearing, in the midst of which a great
fire was burning brightly. Here, lying upon the
ground, were a number of negroes, some asleep,
others awake and drinking arrack. The three
white men were thrown rudely to the ground, and
then a powerful negro, whose arms were greatly
disproportionate, even to his great stature, came
forward, and seating himself upon a log, thus
TIE SLAVES. “117

addressed the captives in the Portuguese lan-
guage :

“Dogs of strangers!” he said. “You dogs of an
accursed race that lives upon our blood and upon
our toil! Yesterday eight of our companions were
carried off by your people. ‘Their destiny will
decide yours. One of my men shall at once sct
out for Buena Vista, where Hofen will then be.
My messenger shall propose an exchange between
you and wy friends. Jf Hofen agree your lives
will be spared. If he has already executed his
threats of hanging his prisoners, I will cut you to
pieces, and roast you over that fire.”

_ He flourished his clasp-knife as he spoke, as if he
were already about to execute his horrible threat.

By sunrise the negroes had surrounded their camp
with a sort of palisade, and then, in accordance with
their usual lazy habits, they lay upon the ground,
. playing at games, or eating and drinking. Nearly
all were emaciated and sinister-looking. They
appeared in dread of discovery. All the runaways
were lazy and cowardly, for, as a rule, slaves are
well treated in the Brazils.

‘When the messenger was ready to start, the chief
negro ordered Mr. Villiers to write to Mr. Hofen.
The inspector obeyed, and on a leaf torn from his
note-book, he wrote the following, which a negro
read aloud :—
118 IN THE WOODS.

“We are prisoners in the hands of runaway
slaves. Our treatment depends upon how you
treat the negroes you have recaptured.”

Mr. Villiers, as he signed this, added two German
words, folgen fluss (follow the river), apparently as
a portion of his signature. He had distinguished
‘the distant roar of water during the night, and
noticed that some of the negroes came into camp
carrying fresh fish, so water must be very near, as
in that climate the fish would not have kept.

The German words attracted no attention, and
the messenger departed. He was expected to
return about seven in the evening, and at that hour
he actually appeared. All gathered round ‘him
anxiously.

He reported that the black prisoners had been
cruelly treated, because he could hear their cries
for vengeance as soon as they were unbound.
The poor Europeans expected instant death, but
at that time the negroes only threatened their
prisoners as they listened to the report, but spurned
Mr. Villiers with blows when he ventured to in-
quire what reply the messenger had brought back.


CHAPTER XVI.

A GRATEFUL NEGRO—ESCAPE OF CHARLEY—THE
IGUANA—-THE OUNCE—FRIENDS AND. FOOD.

BOUT one o’clock in the morning, Charley,
who was lying leaning against a fallen tree,
felt something touch his hand. He cried out in
terror.
“ Silence,” whispered a voice, “I am here to aid
you. Keep quiet, and don’t move an inch.
Unfortunately, Charley’s cry had attracted one
of the sentinels, who came up and inquired what
the matter was. Charley replied that he thought
a snake had touched him.
“T wish it had bitten you,” replied the negro,
viciously, as he returned to his place.
In a moment or two more, Charley heard a
rustling, and the unknown whispered to him again,
“Listen, I am Morabé, whom you delivered from
the mask. I have heard the reply of the messenger ,
from Mr. Hofen. The letter was too late. The
120 MORABE'’S GRATITUDE.

negroes had made an attempt to escape; three got
away, but the rest were shot dead, or desperately
wounded.”

“What are they going to do with us?” asked
Charley.

“They will kill you in the morning.”

“Poor mother!” exclaimed Charley, as he
thought of his home.

““Morabé remembers evil and good,” continued

the slave. “I have come to cut your bonds,
You must crawl away into the brushwood, and
escape.”

“Where to?” said Charley, almost in despair.

“Go to that tree,” replied the black, “and then
straight on. You will soon reach the river; follow
it, and you will reach the white settlement. “Wait ;
do not move yet.” As he spoke, he cut the thongs
which bound Charley’s arms and feet.

“You must wait till all is quiet,” he said.

“And Mr. Villiers, and Connor,” said Charley.
“ What of them?”

“T can’t help them,” replied the negro.

“T cannot go without them” said Charley, boldly.

“ Look how they are guarded; I can’t do any-
thing for them.”

“Tt was Mr. Villicrs who obtained your pardon.’,

“Tam sorry, but I cannot help him,” replied
Morabé ; and indeed, it was well nigh impossible









122 MORABE’S GRATITUDE.

to approach the two men, who were strongly
guarded by armed negroes.

“You will lose your own life and do no good,”
said the negro. “Save yourself, I beg. If I am
discovered, I shall be killed too; but go.” .

Charley’s late manner of living had sharpened
. his wits.. He thought for a moment, and decided
that if-he could escape and reach Buena Vista he
might bring up assistance in time. So he consented
to go. He had to wait, however, till the fire had
subsided, and when the flames no longer burned
brilliantly, he was to go. Morabé gave him afew ~
directions at parting.

“Come with me,” said Charley.

“No. Tapai would find me out and Kill me,”
replied the slave.

“ You can remain at the settlement.”

“No; I wounded my master for ill-treating my
son, and I shall never be pardoned. I could not
help it. Now, there, the fire is low. Go!”

Charley seized the hand of the poor slave, who
would never have thought of offering it, and,
squeezing it between his own, glided away. He
suffered terrible agony of mind while he was
creeping into the brushwood. Just as he reached
it one of the sentinels looked in his direction.

“Oh, Heaven, have mercy on me!” murmured
Charley, who believed he was discovered. But the
CHARLEY’S ESCAPE, 198

negro suddenly looked away, and went to get some
tobacco from one of his companions. In another
minute Charley was crawling on all fours through
the underwood. His face and hands were scratched
and bleeding, but he pressed on, and at length was
able to stand upright. At last he reached the river,
and then he hurried along the bank as fast as his
bleeding limbs and failing strength would permit
him to travel.

It was a great undertaking for so young a boy,—
to travel so many miles in the face of such diffi-
culties through an unknown country without arms
and without food. Twenty times Charley thought
of sitting down to await his fate; he was so worn
out that it seemed impossible he could ever reach
the settlement. Fortunately the light of the moon
cheered him, and permitted him to see the path, or
he must have been overcome. Just before day-
break Charley perceived an enormous lizard (an
iguana), which he knew was good to eat. So,
although he would have preferred roast chicken or
a steak, he had no choice. He prepared, there-
fore, to kill the animal, which was still fast asleep.
Approaching very cautiously, his knife between
his teeth, and grasping his stick with both hands,
Charley dealt the iguana a severe blow which, at
any rate, awakened him, and caused him to make
a rapid retreat between Charley’s legs, throwing
124 MORABE’S GRATITUDE,

the hoy down at. the same time. But Charley was
up in a second and pursuing his flying foe, and
had succeeded in despatching it, when a noise
was heard behind him, and a great animal leaped
out of the forest over his head, and turned at five
or six paces, and then crouched like a cat. It was
an Ounce—a sort of leopard.

Charley, though terribly alarmed, kept his gaze
fixed firmly upon his new foe, and backed slowly
towards a tree close behind him. The Ounce
remained quite motionless, still ready to spring.
But as soon as Charley touched the tree, he turned
round and clambered up, like a squirrel, in a
moment. IIe would have felt quite secure had he
not remembered that the Ounce is a good climber ;
and this one immediately approached the tree and
walked round it as if to choose the best side for
his proposed spring after his prey.

Charley gave himself up for lost, when a report
of agun was heard. The Ounce bounded up in the
air, but another bullet brought him down dead.
Six men came running out of the wood. They
were the surgeon of the John Brown, old Peters,
and some negroes, with a mulatto from the planta-
tion. Our hero quickly descended and ran to his
friends.

“ Are you wounded, my lad?” cried [cters, as
he warmly welcomed Charley.
CHARLEY’S ESCAPE. 125

“No,” replied the boy; “but I am nearly dead
from hunger and fatigue.”

“ Here is something to eat,” exclaimed the sur-
geon; and while Charley ravenously devoured the
food, he told them how Mr. Villiers and Connor
_ had been taken by the slaves,—how he himself had
been assisted to escape, and begged his friends to
go at once to their assistance. He also told them
about the mysterious disappearance of the guide.

“That was vo doubt his body that we found in
the forest, poor fellow,” said Mr. Gautier. “ You
have done well, Charley. Stay here and rest while
Peters and I will consider what is best to be done
to save our friends.”

As he partook of a hasty meal, Charley con-
gratulated himself all the time that he had not been
reduced to the necessity of eating the great lizard.
The surgeon then told him how it had happened
that he and his party had arrived so opportunely to
our hero’s assistance.




CHAPTER XVII.

THE MARCH TO THE CAMP—THE ATTACK—ROUT OF
THE NEGROES—BRAVE CHARLEY—HE PAYS HIS
DEBT TO MORABE,

TH negro’s envoy had delivered the message

to Mr. Hofen, and the letter. The whites
immediately set about the best means to rescue
their friends. Mr. Gautier had at first suggested
following the messenger, but he had escaped, and
Mr. Hofen knew that it would be useless to en-
deayour to track him. The only guidance they had
was contained in the words ‘Follow the river,”
which Mr. Villiers had added in German. Un-
fortunately, the river had two branches; but Mr.
Hofen' was of opinion that the fugitive slaves
would be encamped ‘near the point of separation
of the two streams, but he took care to have both
branches explored. Mr. Gautier and Peters had
started up one side, led by a negro guide, while
THE MARCH. 127

Mr. Hofen and his friends, with Job, explored the
other.

Between the two branches of the river, cutting
at right angles to both the former parties, a third
expedition had been directed to proceed. This
was composed of fourteen well-armed slaves under
two trustworthy white men. Each of the three
detachments: were accompanied by experienced
negro woodmen, who were sure to discover any
tracks of the runaways. They arranged the pass-
word, and were all three to unite at the slave
encampment. The fugitives, however, were on their
guard, and the risk was no small one.

The route by which Charley had travelled was
evidently the most direct, so they decided to follow it. ©
The two other parties were told to unite as soon as
possible, and then the party advanced. Charley,
notwithstanding his fatigue, kept urging them to
advance, and he told them that the negro would
certainly slay his friends at sunrise. All were
very anxious for the fate of: their companions, and
Peters took Charley up on his back, and the party
pressed rapidly on.

After some time they reached the spot where
Charley had joined the path beside the river. He
recognized it because he had noticed a peculiar-
shaped tree at this spot. Here the really dangerous
portion of the expedition was to commence. The
128 THE CAPTIVES.

attacking parties must now conceal themselves in
the woods, so as not to be seen by the light of the
watch-fires. They followed the path which Charley
had traversed, and in about an hour they were able
to hear the sound of voices from the camp, mingled
with beating of sticks and other strange sounds.

“ They are celebrating the Death Feast,” thought
Mr. Gautier, and in a moment they were in a
position to see that he was right. The negroes
were dancing wildly round their naked prisoners,
yelling and threatening them. Mr. Villiers was
pale and collected. Connor was defiant.

At a signal from the chief negro the dance
ceased. The blacks armed themselves with thick
flexible canes, and assembled around their victims.
To the chief was awarded the first blow. He
advanced to inflict it, when a bullet broke his
shoulder, and at the same time two negroes close
to Mr. Villiers fell dead. The surgeon and his
little band immediately precipitated themselves upon
the negroes, who, fancying they were assailed by a
larger foree, took to flight.

But the negro chief would not be baulked of his
revenge. He seized his knife, and advanced towards
his prisoner. He was about to strike him, when some-
thing rushing between his legs overturned him.
It was Charley, who, though carried forcibly to the
ground, still clung tightly to the monster’s knees.
THE CAPTIVES. 129

Fortunately, the savage could not use his right
arm, and Peters, running up at that moment, dealt
him such a blow that it fractured his skull.

Without stopping to inspect his bruises, Charley
ran to Mr. Villiers and cut his bonds, and immedi-
ately afterwards did the same for Connor. The
latter, scarcely thanking our hero, snatched up
a thick stick and laid about him valiantly. Mr.
Villiers also fought stoutly. But the Europeans
would have fared badly as their inferiority of
numbers became apparent, had not a scout arrived,
crying out that another band of whites was upon
them. This completed the rout, and in a few
moments the main body arrived, a portion of which
went at once in pursuit of the fugitives.

Suddenly a voice was heard calling for Charley,
and Job came running up in the greatest excitement,
and clasped Charley tightly in his embrace.

. “Don’t break him,” exclaimed Connor, “for I
have to thank him for all I possess in the world, and
I don’t want him killed.” :

“ He guided us,” continued the surgeon. “It is
to his courage you owe your lives.”

But Charley was only dimly conscious of these
praises, for he was already nearly asleep, quite
worn out by all he had suffered. Meantime, the
party returned with seven negro prisoners, amongst
whom was Morabé, and after a‘much-needed rest,

9




















































































= RS (oe
oR. iain )
= i

“Charley was clasping his hand” (page 131).
THE CAPTIVES. 131

the expedition returned to Buena Vista. Job and
his shipmates had quite a dispute as to which of
them should carry Charley, but Job at last had his
own way, and walled off in triumph, the lad resting,
fast asleep, upon his shoulders.

Next morning when Charley got up, he found
the slaves drawn up, ironed, and ready to be
marched away for execution, having been taken
red-handed against the whites. “Poor fellows!”
he muttered, and was going away, when he thought
he perceived one of them making a sign to him.
He went back, and found that Morabé was among
the condemned. In two minutes Charley had run
to him and was clasping his hands.

An explanation ensued, and the slave’s bonds
were loosed. “I cannot permit them to punish a
man to whom we owe our lives,” said Mr. Villiers.
‘* How can we save him?” he added to Mr. Hofen,
as he drew him aside.

Mr. Hofen was very doubtful whether his vin-
dictive master, Senor Parad, would consent to give
him up, even if double the original sum were paid
for the slave. But pending an application to the
planter, Morabé was kept atthe farm and well treated,
and Mr. Villiers went to Rio and saw the planter.

But, as was feared, he would not forego his
vengeance. Mr. Villiers could not persuade him.
Morabé was doomed to torture and execution.
132 THE RETURN.

Providence, however, says, ‘‘ Vengeance is mine.’
The cruel planter went out riding that very day on
a spirited horse, which in his temper he ill-used.
The consequence was it bolted with him, and
throwing him against a tree-stump killed. him.
The: heirs to the property at once accepted Mr.
Villiers’ liberal offer to purchase the slave, and
Morabé was free.

Never had Charley been so happy as that day
when the ransomed slave knelt before him and
implored God’s blessing upon him and his mother.
Mr. Villiers, however, did not do things by halves.
He headed a subscription on board the John Brown,
and a nice little sum was thereby collected for the
benefit of the slave’s wife and family. Morabé,
active and industrious, soon got possession of a
fruit-seller’s business in a small way, and later on
he prospered, and lived for years happily with his
wife and children.
















































































CHAPTER XVIII.

A GLIMPSE AT LANDSECCOMBE—MRS. MORANT’S
ILLNESS—-GOOD NEWS FROM SEA,

\OON after Mr. Villiers’ return to Rio Janeiro,
the John Brown set sail again, and rounding
Cape Horn amidst a terrible scorm, in which
Charley again won great praise for his behaviour,
the ship arrived at Valparaiso. Nothing of any
importance happened, so we will leave our hero
and his companions under the guidance of Captain.
Thomson, and fly back to England to pay a visit
to Mrs. Morant.

She had all this time been working hard, but
though she tried, she could not forget the sad past.
Her heart was fixed upon the happiness of her
children, and in memories of the dear absent lad.
She procured a map of the World, and she and
Jenny found out the places where Master Charley
had stopped, or was likely to stop at. . Every even-
134 AL LANDSECCOMBE.

ing they took this voyage together, and when a
letter arrived, it served for conversation for a week.
One day, greatly to the terror of the household,
Mrs. Morant fell sick. The neighbours said the
fever ‘was typhoid, which was then epidemic on
the coast. A farmer kindly rode all the way to
the town to fetch the doctor, and he confirmed the
nature of. the malady. ‘There was no danger,” he
said, “but the patient must be very carefully
nursed.” But though the doctor and the chemist
are kind men, they must be paid, and money was
scarce with the Morants. Fanny, however, managed
to obtain a little work, and some money. Then Jenny
was taken ill, and poor Rosie could only divide her
time between the two invalids and listen to their
wandering speech, for they were delirious.. Fanny
did all she could to console the girl, but the task
was a very hard one for both of them. They were
obliged to be on foot from morning till night, and
could at best snatch a few hours’ sleep, sometimes
none at all.
The schoolmaster and the curate would often
. look in, and the neighbours were very kind, though
fully occupied themselves. Some brought in alittle
wine, or a morsel of meat, or some strengthening
food for the invalids,—potatoes, shell-fish, or pre-
serves of various sorts,—all as their means admitted
exercised true charity.
AT LANDSECCOMBE. 135

People often say ‘“ Misfortunes never come
single,” and this was the case now. The sailor who
worked the fishing-boat for Mrs. Morant fell sick
also. So the family was now quite at the end of
their resources.

One day the postman brought a foreign letter.
“There is a shilling to pay on it,” he said.

“T have not got.so much money,” replied Fanny,
who was nearly crying.

The postman was very sorry, but put the letter
in his pocket. .

“Are you going to take it away?” exclaimed
Fanny, in amazement.

“Why, I must ; it is not paid for.”

Fanny sighed deeply. But at this moment the
curate happened to pass, and seeing Fanny so dis-
tressed, inquired what was the matter. Fanny
explained, and he at once paid the money and went
into the house.

“Tam afraid Mrs. Morant is not a enough
to listen to this now,” he said.

“Unless there is something very important,”
suggested Fanny.

The curate looked at the stamp, and said, “ Oh,
it is from Valparaiso—most likely from her son.
_ There seems to be an enclosure, too.”

“ From Charley? How delightful!” cried Fanny.
‘Now what shall I do?” said the priest. “If
136 CHARLEY’S LETTER.

this letter contains money I ought to open it. On
the other hand, I have no business to open a letter
addressed to another person. But I will do so, as
I think it will be for the best.”

He broke the seal, and a’ bank-draft for five
pounds fluttered to the ground as he opened the
letter. There was also a note enclosed from Captain
Thomson, which was as follows :—

“ MADAM,—

“TJ write a few lines to inform you how well-
pleased I am with your son’s conduct. He isan excellent
lad, and will do credit to his bringing up. He may always
count upon the friendship of

“ Yours, etc.,
“T, THOMSON,
“ Commanding the ship John Brown.”

Charley’s letter was as follows :—

‘ My DEAREST MOTHER,—

“You must know that Mr. Villiers gave me four
pounds at Rio Janeiro, with some more money I got for
doing little things for the Surgeon, and so, I at last
scraped together quite a lot of money, and the Captain
very kindly got it all exchanged for the piece of bank paper
Inow send you. It is addressed to Mr. Rothschild, who,
I suppose, is well known, for the Captain said that when- °
ever you present the ‘bill,’ as he calls it, it will be
recognised, and you will get the money at once.

“You must buy a cloak for yourself, for I remember
yours is worn into holes, and you must have strong shoes,
and good cider to give you strength. I should like Jenny
and Rosie also to have new frocks, and Fanny, too, must




* The Curate was obliged to show her the letter’ (page 139),
138 THE FEVER.

not be left out. Kiss her for me. I suppose, though, you
know better than I can tell you what to do with the
money.

“J wish I was very rich, and could sent you plenty of
money. You should have such a jolly house and such
good dinners, and everything of the very best. Fanny,
too, of course, and Job and Connor and good old Peters.

“You know I have often told you.about Mr. Villiers.
Well, he has taught me mathematics. I am so much
obliged to him. Sometimes he is impatient because I
am not sharp enough, and then I get so red and I don’t
know what to say. But he only shrugs his shoulders and
pulls my ear jokingly. He says if I work hard I shall be
a Captain some day, but I know that is too grand a thing
to hope for.

“When you write mind you tell me about everybody ;
about Jenny, Rosie, Fanny, and all the animals, and the
old sexton, Jerome, and our old sailor, and all. I will
try and earn some more money and send it to you; and
you can do as you like with this for the good of all at
home. -Good-bye, dearest mother, and hoping you_are
quite well as this leaves me at present,

“T remain,
“Your affectionate son,
“ CHARLEY MORANT.”

A wonderful flourish came after the signature.
“ Brave little fellow,” murmured the curate.
Notwithstanding the terrible weak, and the
half-conscious state in which poor Mrs. Morant
lay, the fond mother’s ear caught the name
“Charley” as the curate finished reading. She
tried to raise her head and to hold out her hand
AT LANDSECCOMBE. ; 139

for the letter. ‘From Charley?” she whispered.

The curate nodded, and said, “ He is quite well,
and has sent you five pounds. The Captain has
also written in high praise of your son.”

A beam of pure joy lighted up the sufferer’s pale
face. ‘My darling boy,” she mumured, and the
curate was obliged to show her the letter, and let
her kiss it. She then fell back, and was once again
unconscious of all that passed around her.

“Now, Fanny,” said the curate, “until Mrs,
Morant is well enough to sign this paper, I will
lend you some money. If you will come to my
house I will give you a couple of pounds for
present necessaries, and you can have more after-
wards.”

Fanny did as he directed, and with the kind
assistance of the villagers, many very useful and
necessary articles were procured for the invalids.

The fever soon reached its worst stage, and then
the patients began to improve rapidly, and were
pronounced out of danger, though the doctor might
also have told them they would have to remain in
bed for a long time still. The widow's great
delight was to read and re-read Charley’s letter
and Captain Thomson’s. report. She was, indeed,
proud of his praises of her son.

“You see he never forgets you, Fanny,” she
said, as she read the portions referring to her little
140 FANNY.

friend. “And how he will thank you when he
learns how kind you have been to me. You are
our good angel, Fanny dearest.”

“Oh, you must not say that!” cried Fanny,
blushing with delight.

“Yes, dear; both the doctor and the curate have
told me what you and Jenny did. It was wonder-
ful!”

“T wish I could have done more,” replied Fanny.
“T have never forgotten your kindness to me, a
poor beggar girl. If you only knew -how happy I
feel every time I enter this house! Everybody
treats me as one of the family, and you—are so
kind : I love you with all my heart!”

She threw herself into Mrs. Morant’s arms as
she spoke, and kissed her warmly.

“So do I,” and “So do I, too,” cried Rosie and
Jenny, who came forward to embrace their mother.

“My darlings,” she said, “let us thank God for
all His mercies, and for the assistance He has sent
us. Let us thank Him particularly for the great
blessing of such loving and devoted good children.
May He protect us as He has hitherto done, watch
over the absent, and bring our dear Charley back
to us again.”

So Mrs. Morant and her three children. knelt
down and prayed earnestly together for the
wanderer’s return,




CHAPTER XIX.

SAN FRANCISCO—TIIE GOLD FEVER—DESERTION OF
BERNARD AND SAWYER—DISCOVERY OF -GOLD—
WORKING IN THE MINES,

ET us now look to our friend Charley, whose
ship has just sighted San Francisco, now

a most important town, but before the gold dis-
coveries in California, was a small and unnoted
place. The bay is one of the most beautiful in
the world.” It is about seventy-five miles long,
and encloses many islands in its wide embrace.
When our travellers arrived at San Francisco the
gold-fever was at its height, and adventurers from
all quarters were, pouring in. ‘There was a great

" excitement respecting the finding of certain nuggets,
but people forgot the toil and trouble that had
been expended in gaining them, and the num-
bers who had died from exposure and fever in
the pursuit. There were a number of vessels
waiting in the bay unable to set sail, all the crews














































——

SSS

EEE EES

“‘ “hey encountered some miners” (page 143)


THE GOLD FEVER. 143

having gone off to the “ diggin’s,” and Captain
Thomson took advantage of this to address his
ship’s company.

“My lads,” he said, “if at Rio or at Panama I
had told you that I could procure hands for the
voyage home at a much cheaper rate than I am
paying you, you would have justly charged me
with breach of contract. Well, then, on the other
hand, if any of you desert my ship, you will be
despised by your messmates for breach of Articles.
I know jou all are first-rate seamen, and brave
fellows, and I have full confidence in you. You
shall, therefore, all-go ashore as heretofore, and I
think I can depend npon your honour as British
seamen, not to desert the ship.”

The men gavethree cheers, and declared they would
all stick to the John Brown. ‘They kept their engage-
ment faithfully, except Bernard and a discontented
_ fellow named Jack Sawyer. These two were so
unfortunate as to be in a “saloon” when they
“ encountered some very successful miners, who had
just come from the “diggin’s.” The recitals of
these men inflamed the imagination of Bernard
and Sawyer, and they determined to run away.
They .endeavoured to persuade Charley to accom-
pany them, but he indignantly refused.

The Captain was sorry when he heard that the
young men had deserted, and Mr. Villiers asked
14t A MEETING.

him whether, after that, he thought he would keep
his crew, for he was anxious to remain at San
Francisco for a fortnight, if possible. The Captain
was assured of the fidelity of his men, and after
a day or two he gave them leave to work on shore,
by turns, for their own advantage. In those days
all labour was very highly paid. Waiters not
uncommonly received three pounds a day, and
carpenters and skilled labourers as much as five
or six. Even porters could make more than two
pounds in a day; and Connor, as a barber, and
Peters as a porter, picked up ten pounds in a
very short time. Job, as ajobbing carpenter, made
two pounds ten a day easily, and Charley, who
was permitted to run messages and act as a com-
missionaire, gained a great deal of money.

One day, as Charley was waiting in his usual
place by the wharf, a grizzled, weather-beaten man
accosted him. The new-comer was like the man
in the rhyme,—“ All tattered and torn,”—and he
laughed loudly, as he said, “I say, young fellow,
can you show me a tailor’s shop near here?”

Charley replied in the affirmative; and as they
went along the rough miner told him that in six
months he had made £16,000 at the diggings.
“ Now,” he added, “I’m going to live and spend my
money like a gentleman. Don’t you want to be
rich, too?” he asked.
THE GOLD FEVER. 145

‘Indeed I do,” replied Charley.

“What would you do with money if you had
it?”

“J should send it to my mother,” was the reply.

The miner stopped and looked at Charley atten-
tively. “Ah! you're a better chap than I am.
I have an old mother, too, and I never thought
about her.”

“Now you are rich you can go and see her,”
said the lad.

“Tm going to have another try first. I know
a spot where there is a lot of gold,—£20,000, at
least.”

“Yes; but what will become of your mother
meantime?” said Charley, boldly.

The miner paused again. “The young fellow’s
right,” he muttered. “Look here, my lad.” As
he spoke he detached a wide and heavy belt from
his waist, and took from it a small bag of gold-
dust.

“Here’s £500. Take care of that for me. Tl
send it to my mother.”

“ Now—at once?”

“No; don’t bother. Here, I’m very thirsty, I
must have something to drink. Wait, here’s an
ounce for yourself.” He shook an ounce of gold-
dust into Charley’s palm, and said, ‘ Send that to
your mother. Now, come along.”

; 10 ©
146 THE MINERS.

He entered that bar-room and several others, but
at length reached the tailor’s, where he purchased
an outfit of clothes for the modest. sum of £70.
As they left the store, Charley noticed two men at
the door, and as he and the miner came out they
followed. . Charley became uneasy, and at length
the men claimed the miner as a friend, and invited
him to drink. He consented, and they remained
in the saloon so long that the night fell (for it
comes very quickly after sunset in San Francisco)
before they left. The strangers now took hold of the
miner’s arms, and walked along rather unsteadily.

“We don’t want you, my lad,” they said. But
Charley kept up with them, tired as he was. The
half-tipsy miner kept turning round to remind
Charley to take care of the belt and the gold, and
at last the strangers, who could not quite under-
stand, asked Charley what the man meant.

“Oh,” said Charley, who had a happy thought,
“he is talking about his belt and bag of gold-dust
which he gave to a porter down by the wharf this
morning.”

“Was it a large belt?” inquired one of the
men.

Charley said “Yes,” and showed him the size
with his hands.

“Where is he—this porter? Who saw him with
it?”
THE GOLD FEVER. 147

“1 did,” said Charley.

“Can you take us to the place—to his shed?”

“Yes,” replied Charley, “I can.” Charley knew
that Peters was there, and he hoped to outwit
these men, who he believed were robbers.

“Look here, you're a sharp fellow. If you guide
us to the place we'll give you five hundred dollars.
If you betray us, we'll kill you. Go ahead!”

Charley proceeded until he reached the shed
where he had been hired, and there he fortunately
found old Peters and another sailor.

“Ts that the man you meant?” said one of the
Americans.

“Yes,” replied Charley, trying to catch his friend’s
eye. .
“Took here,” said the other American, “we
want that bag o’ gold. So give it up now, at
once.”

“What do you want?” said Peters, surprised, and
recognizing Charley with a wink. “A bag of gold?
I don’t know what you mean.”

“Tt means,” said Charley, “that these men want
to rob this miner.”

“Ah, my young joker,” cried one of the Ameri-
cans, “I'll settle you!” and he aimed a blow at his
head, which was luckily parried by Peters, and in
a moment the fight became general. Peters was
wounded with a bowie-knife, and Charley got a
148 CHARLEY IS REWARDED.

pistol-ball through the fleshy part of his shoulder.
But the stout English sailors floored their an-
tagonists with a west country throw, and bound
them securely. The Vigilance Committee then
took charge of the prisoners, and they were exe-
cuted.

We have no need to tell how the miner, who had
regained his senses by this time, thanked Charley
for his presence of mind and honesty. Completely
sobered by his adventure, he determined to return
to his. native country at once; but before he left he
gave Charley a handsome reward for his courage,
viz., a sum in gold dust equal to £250.

“ He might have made away with that belt and
nearly £600,” he said, “and he deserves all the
credit and all the money he has got;” nor were
Peters and his friend forgotten either.

Charley consulted the Captain as to what he
should do with his money, and the captain advised
him to remit about eighty pounds home, and with
the remainder to purchase a share in a venture he
was then making. Charley took his advice, and
wrote his mother a long letter, enclosing the |
draft on the banker, and it was put on board a
ship bound for Bristol.

Next day Mr. Villiers asked Charley and
Connor to accompany him on a little expedition
in the environs of San Francisco. They had not
THE GOLD FEVER. 149

ridden more than twelve miles when they heard a
voice calling for help. “Help, help! Have pity
on me!”

They pulled up and listened. “Strange,” cried
Charley, ‘“‘I think I know that voice.” And dis-
mounting, he ran as fast as he could in the diree-
tion of the wounded man.




. CHAPTER XX.

THE TWO ADVENTURERS—THE BUSHRANGERS—DEATH
OF JACK SAWYER—BERNARD IN DANGER.

ET us now see how Bernard and Jack Sawyer

prospered. Bernard was rather a spendthrift,

and he started with very little money in his purse.

Sawyer, on the contrary, was a close, stingy fellow,

and made up his mind to spend no more than

was absolutely necessary; he had about fifteen
dollars in his purse.

After a tiresome journey in the “stage,” they
reached San Juan, and there they found they must
walk if they wished to go any farther.

“But we must have something to eat,” said
Bernard. “At the present price of provisions I
shall have no dinner.”

Jack made no reply to this. He, too, was hungry,
and going to a small shop he inquired the price of
a piece of bread and a slice of salted meat.

“Two dollars” (eight shillings) said. the man.
But Sawyer would not pay so much, and went
THE ADVENTURERS. 151

away. Bernard, with all his faults, was not mean
and stingy, and would not have hesitated to share
his dinner with a companion. So he judged Sawyer
by himself, and said,—

‘“‘ What are we to do for dinner ?”

“ Buy it, ” replied Jack Sawyer, crossly.

“ But I have no money.”

“Why didn’t you bring some then?”

“ Won't you lend me a few dollars?”

“No. I’m not going to throw my money away
on you!”

“Oh! is that it?” replied Bernard. ‘Very well.”

The poor lad went away disappointed and very
hungry. At last he took his spare shirt from his
bundle, and going to the shop asked four dollars
for it. The man offered him two, and with this he
was at last obliged to be contented, and the two
dollars were then exchanged for some bread and
salted meat.

Having finished their meal, the ill-suited pair
descended towards the river, where they perceived
some men washing gold. They had no machines
or tools wherewith to wash or dig, and at length
Bernard engaged himself to a miner, who had
crushed his hand beneath a large stone, to wash
the gravel for him. Master Jack, seeing his com-
rade thus engaged, approached also and wished to
join him, but Bernard repulsed him. The miner,
152 IN DISTRESS.

however, seeing that Sawyer was the bigger and
stronger of the two, and would probably do more
work, told him that he (Jack) should fill Bernard’s
place next day. When Bernard saw how he had
been supplanted, he attacked his companion, and
though fighting was only too common, the atten-
tion of the authorities was directed to this encoun-
ter, and not having paid the Government Tax, both
combatants were prevented working at all, and
departed very crestfallen.

It soon became necessary for Bernard to pur-
chase some more food, and on this occasion he was
compelled to sell his spare pair of trowsers, and
subsequently his hat and the handkerchief he had
carried his clothes in. The miners they met were
suspicious, and would not assist them much. Ber-
nard here again offered his services to assist a gang
of washers, and got employment as cook, while Jack,
with an old saucepan, endeavoured to wash the
sand, and after a little time he actually managed to
pick up a little gold-dust. He subsequently got
some more, and paid the tax.

Bernard, however, had no such good fortune.
He perpetually regretted his folly in deserting, and
after a few days, the miners finding their placer
no longer productive, moved away. Jack, also,
had no more good luck, so the pair of wanderers |
again journeyed on, detesting each other in their
TUE ADVENTURERS. 153

hearts, but chained together by a common fate
They heard several reports of “ bushrangers” gs
they proceeded, and Sawyer began to be very
uneasy respecting his money. “Suppose they
attack us,” he said.

‘“Tt’s all the same to me,” said Bernard.

“Yes, but not to me,” replied his companion.

‘“That’s no affair of mine.”

“ Woulldn’t you assist in defending me?” cried
Jack. :

“No; why should I?” said Barnard. “ What
good is your gold to me?”

“ Well, one’s money is one’s own, you know.”

“So is one’s skin, and I’m not going to risk
mine for nothing, I can tell you,” replied Bernard.

This was.not Bernard’s real feeling, but his
comrade’s selfishness provoked the answer.

Jack Sawyer was terribly afraid, and at length
the travellers encountered a band of miners, all
singing and shouting as they went along. They
appeared to be of all nations, but they were dread-
fully dirty and very ferocious-looking men. They
looked at Bernard and his companion, who were
then seated near a small pond of water for refresh-
ment. The miners halted near the same spot,
and began to prepare their meal. Bernard made
some advances, and obtained a portion of the. fare,
as did Jack also, but grudgingly, and only got scraps.
154 A TERRIBLE SCENE.

“T suppose I may eat without paying, at any
rate,” he grumbled.

The man heard him. ‘ How much have you?”
he said.

“ How much what ?” said Jack.

“Money, you idiot, of course!” was the reply.

** Not much.”

“How much, do you hear ?”

“Forty dollars; that’s all, I declare!”

“That will do, then. Hand it to me.”

““ What! forty dollars for a dinner?” exclaimed
Jack.

“You must pay for the honour of dining with
us.”

‘“*T would rather have dined alone.”

“Come, your gold!” cried the man, furiously.
The man threw himself upon him as he spoke.
Jack was brave, and defended himself valiantly;
but notwithstanding that Bernard endeavoured to
assist him, Sawyer was quickly stabbed to the heart,
and his dead body was cast into the pond, and
floated away amongst the reeds. Bernard was also
stunned and cast into the lake, but fortunately he
managed to crawl out and conceal himself in the
bushes.

There he lay all night and all next day for fear
the murderers should see him. But at last he
ventured out and made his way towards San Fran-




















“Bernard was.in a terrible plight ” (page 156).
156 A NARROW ESCAPE.

cisco. Fortunately, he met some humane miners,
who gave him some food, and with this assistance
he managed to reach a spot about twelve miles
from the city. There he fell, utterly exhausted,
and it was then that his feeble cries for help
were heard by Mr. Villiers and his attendants
as they rode along. Bernard was in a terrible
plight, almost naked, and nearly starved to death.
He was afraid to meet Mr. Villiers, and tried to
hide his face with his trembling hands. But the
kind inspector went to him and cheered him, told
Connor to take the boy up behind him, and they
all returned to San Francisco as fast as they ‘could
go.
When they reached the city Mr. Villiers took
Bernard to his own house, where, under such good
care, the boy quickly recovered his strength. Mr.
Villiers then undertook to make peace with Captain
Thomson, and he succeeded, but not without diffi-
culty. The Captain at length received him kindly,
and pointed out how foolish and wicked he had
been. Bernard was much impressed by this kind-
ness, and humbled by the misfortunes he had passed
through. The lesson was not lost upon him.

Soon after this, the crew of the John Brown
assembled, and the ship sailed for China. It was
proposed to visit India, and then to return home.
Charley was already looking forward to seeing his
TUE ADVENTURERS. 157

mother and sisters and Fanny, but the voyage was
by no means over. Many months would elapse
before the white cliffs of Albion would be sighted
by the crew of the John Brown. Mr. Villiers con-
tinued to take the greatest interest m our hero,
and did not cease to instruct him. Charley picked
up a great deal of useful knowledge, both in theory
and practice, and the “venture” in which he had
invested his money turned out most fortunately.
His purse grew full, and Charley was glad to see
that he had the means to minister to the wants and
to the pleasure of those he loved.




CHAPTER XXI.

HOME AGAIN -— CHARLEY’S FRIENDS — PROJECTS—
CHARLEY IS MARRIED—A HAPPY ENDING.

r pe years had elapsed since Charley left
-- home, and thanks to his exertions and re-
mittances, ease and plenty reigned in the little
cottage by the sea. Fanny had given up the occu-
pation she had voluntarily undertaken, and now
lived entirely with the Morants. The curate had
set up a little shop for Mrs. Morant, and the
neighbouring farmers having more fruit and vege
tables than they required, spared some at a cheap
rate to her, so that she did very well. Fanny,
too, got a donkey-cart, and went about the villages
selling fruit, butter, and eggs. Her pleasing man
ners and respectful demeanour pleased everybody,
and people always gave her the preference. These
operations were gradually extended, Rosie also
taking her share, while Jenny was housekeeper.
Mrs. Morant might have sat idle all day had she






















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‘cWhat a welcome he received!” (page 160).

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169 A WELCOME.

not been so energetic, for the children worked
for her and themselves.

The question, “When will Charley come back?”
was ever on their lips. ‘He will not be long now,”
was the cheering answer one morning, for a letter
had been received stating that. he was on his way
home. At length one morning came a knock at
the door, and the new-comer having been bidden
to open it, in walked Job.

“Why, Job!” exclaimed Mrs. Morant. “Job!
Where is Charley, where is my darling boy ?”

“ He’s all right,” replied Job; “you'll see him
soon.”

‘But why is he not here, since you .

‘“‘ Ah! you see there are many things to be done
on board, and——” Job here began to laugh.

“JT was sure of it; he is here,” and Mrs. Morant
rushed to open the door. Charley threw himself
into her arms.

Oh, what a welcome he received! How de-
lighted they all were, and how they pressed
forward to kiss him—Jenny and Rosie, and even
Fanny rushed to his embrace; and then Fanny
saw how tall he had grown, and remembered how
she had grown too, and blushed; and then Charley
noticed how tall she was, and how pretty, and he
blushed too, and they were all very happy indeed.

Mrs. Morant thanked Job over and over again

>


HOME, SWEET HOME! 161

for his great kindness in protecting Charley, and
even embraced him in her gratitude.

“Don’t mention it,” said Job, “ don’t mention it.
It was and is a pleasure to do anything for such
a lad as that. He does credit to his family and
friends.”

“‘ Mother,” cried Charley at last, “you remember
Connor and Peters, of whom I spoke in my letters?”

“ Your poor father’s friends ?— Yes, yes, I remem-
ber them well.”

“May I bring them in ?—they are not far off.”

“Oh! why did you leave them outside? Fetch
them in at once, my boy.”

“Peters wished toremain. Heis so funny. He
pretended that it always makes him ill to see a
woman cry, and he said he would take a turn
first.” ;

“He is a heart of oak for all his nonsense!”
said Job, emphatically.

Charley immediately ran out, and returned in a
minute with Connor and Peters, whom he intro-
duced in due form. Mrs. Morant thanked them
heartily for their good nature towards Charley, and
they tried to turn her praises off, and grumbled all
the more because they felt the tears coming into
their eyes. The time passed as quickly as a dream,
and peals of Jaughter succeeded the tears of joy of
their first meeting. Charley then told his mother

11
162 A. HAPPY PARTY.

all that had happened to him. He told her how from
San Francisco the John Brownhad sailed to China, and
that while at Canton Mr. Villiers had advised him to
purchase various sharesinacargo which had beensold
at a great profit when the John Brown arrived at
Calcutta. At this town, the chief city of Bengal,
Charley had bought saltpetre and a variety of other
things which his ally, Mr. Villiers, had undertaken
to dispose of for him on his arrival in England.
The result of all these operations was that Charley
found himself in possession of about four hundred
pounds. He threw the bills into his mother’s lap
as he spoke.

While our hero was dilating upon all the wonder-
ful things he had seen, and while his sisters and
Fanny were listening open-mouthed in astonish-
ment, Job took Mrs. Morant aside, and said,
“You received a letter from Mr. Villiers, did you
not?”

“Yes, Job,” she replied, “and his letter made
me very happy. He praised Charley highly, and
promised that my boy should always find a friend
in him.”

_ “You may depend upon it he will be as good as
his word,” returned Job. ‘He told me to assure
you so far. He is very fond of Charley, and in-
tends to bring him up for the merchant marine,
should he pass his examination as a petty officer,
HOME, SWEET HOME! 163

He cannot become a captain before he is twenty-
five, so he has plenty of time before him.”

In the afternoon Charley paid a round of visits
to his neighbours to thank them for the kindness
they had shown towards his mother and sisters
during his absence. He had brought several little
presents for his old friends, and though in them-
selves the gifts were not very valuable, the kind
thought which had prompted the attention was
highly appreciated by all the recipients. The
curate called to welcome Charley in the evening,
and the whole party sat down to dinner in the
cottage, as happy as the day was long, and
happier.

Job and his companions spent a week in the
village, and at length returned to London. Charley
also was obliged to go soon after, but only for a
short time. He continued to work hard, and at
length got a pilot’s certificate. He often wrote
home, and no matter how short the letter was,
there was always a message for little Fanny.

Mrs. Morant bought a large house, and furnished
it nicely. A shop was added, where Fanny and
Jenny had a charming little millinery establishment,
and were patronised by many rich people. When
Charley was nineteen he went to a naval college
under Mr. Villiers’ protection, and when he had
studied for his examination, and passed in seaman-
164 CONCLUSION.

ship and navigation, he was fit to be a mate. And
when he had passed, he travelled down to Land-
seccombe to tell them the good news, and to ask
little Fanny to be his wife.

They were all so delighted. The wedding was -
celebrated soon afterwards, and Jenny was married
on the same day to a young and prosperous school-
master, an old: admirer of hers.

Charley took command of a ship as soon as he
had served his time, and you may depend upon it
that his three friends of the old John Brown had
each a place on board.

We have little more to add. Charley always
brought his old friends home with him, and once
he brought home the mate of his ship,—a fine young
fellow, who at once fell in love with Rosie, and the
following year she consented to be his wife.

There are now four pretty children round the
table in Charley’s house. The schoolmaster teaches
them to read, and the curate, now grown old, has
hopes to prepare them for confirmation in the little
church at Landseccombe.

And Charley Morant,—no longer lazy,—when he
sees himself so blessed and surrounded by the loving
ones at home, thanks God from the bottom of his
heart for having so bountifully recompensed him
for his courage and dertermination to do his duty

in the state of life to which he had been called.
36—76q—9-82