send prizes home to England, and put them into the hands of a rascally agent, who would rob us of three-fourths at least? No, no-that would never do. If I could have escaped from the man-of-war which picked up me and four others, who were adrift in an open boat, I would now have been on the Coast. But when I lost my fin, I knew that all was over with me; so I came to the Hospital but I often think of old times, and the life of a rover. Now, if you have any thoughts of going to sea, look out for some vessel bound to the Gold Coast, and then you'll soon get in the right way."

"The Gold Coast?-Is not that to where the slavers go?"

"Yes, slavers, and other vessels besides: some traffic for ivory and gold dust; however, that's as may happen. You'd soon find yourself in good company; and wouldn't that be better than begging here for half-pence? I would be above that, at all events."

This remark, the first of the kind ever made to me, stung me to the quick. Strange, I had never before considered myself in the light of a beggar; and yet, was I not so, just as much as a sweeper of a crossing?

"A beggar?” replied I.

"Yes, a beggar; don't you beg for half-pence, and say, Thank your honour; a copper for poor Jack, your honour?"" rejoined Spicer, mimicking me. "When I see that pretty sister of yours, that looks so like a real lady, I often thinks to myself, Fine and smart as you are, miss, your brother's only a beggar.' Now, would you not like to return from a cruise with a bag of doubloons to throw into her lap, proving that you were a gentleman, and above coppers thrown to you out of charity? Well, old as I am, and maimed, I'd sooner starve where I now stand-but I must be off; so good-bye, Jack-look sharp after the half-pence.'

As Spicer walked away, my young blood boiled. A beggar it was but too true and yet I had never thought it a disgrace before. I sat down on the steps,

and was soon in deep thought. Boat after boat came to the stairs, and yet I stirred not. Not one halfpenny did I take during the remainder of that day; for I could not-would not ask for one. My pride, hitherto latent, was roused; and before I rose from where I had been seated, I made a resolution that I would earn my livelihood in some other way. What hurt me most was his observations about Virginia and her beggar brother. I was so proud of Virginia, I felt that her brother ought not to be a beggar. Such was the effect produced in so short a time by the insidious discourse of this man. he still remained at the steps, I do believe that I should have asked, probably have followed, his advice. Fortunately he had left; and, after a little reflection, I had the wisdom to go and seek Peter Anderson, and consult him as to what I could do; for to change my mode of obtaining my livelihood I was determined upon.

Had

I found Anderson, as usual, seated under the colonnade, reading; and I went up to him.

"Well, Jack, my boy, you are home early," said he. "Yes," replied I, gravely; and then I was silent.

After a pause of about a minute, Peter Anderson said"Jack, I see there's something the matter. Now, tell me what it is. Can I help you?

"I did wish to speak to you," replied I. "I've been thinking about going to sea.'

"And how long have you thought of that, Jack?” "I've thought more of it lately,” replied I.

"Yes, since Spicer has been talking to you. Now, is that not the case?"

"Yes, it is."

"I knew that, Jack. I'm at your service for as long as you please; now sit down and tell me all he has said to you that you can remember. I sha'n't interrupt you."

I did so; and before I had half finished, Anderson replied "That is quite enough, Jack. One thing is evident to me that Spicer has led a bad and lawless life, and would even now continue it, old as he is, only that he

is prevented by being crippled. Jack, he has talked to you about privateers! God forgive me if I wrong him; but I think, had he said pirates, he would have told the truth. But say nothing about that observation of mine; I wish from my heart that you had never known him. But here comes your father. He has a right to know what we are talking about; for you owe duty to him as his son, and nothing can be done without his permission."

When my father came up to us, Anderson begged him to sit down, and he told him what we had been discoursing about. I had already stated my objections to enter on board of a man-of-war.

"Well!" said my father, "I may come athwart hawse of that old piccaroon yet, if he don't look out. Not that I mind your going to sea, Jack, as your father did before you; but what he says about the sarvice is a confounded lie. Let a man do his duty, and the sarvice is a good one; and a man who is provided for as he is, ought to be ashamed of himself to speak as he has done the old rascal. Still, I do not care for your entering the sarvice so young. It would be better that you were first apprentice and larnt your duty; and as soon as your time is out, you will be pressed of course, and then you would sarve the King. I see no objection to all that."

"But why do you want so particularly to go to sea, Jack?" observed Anderson.

"I don't like being a beggar-begging for half-pence!" replied I.

"And Spicer told you that you were a beggar?" said Peter.

"He did."

Jack, if that is the case, we all are beggars; for we all work, and receive what money we can get for our work. There is no shame in that."

"I can't bear to think of it," replied I, as the tears came into my eyes.

"Well, well! I see how it is," replied Anderson; "it's a pity you ever fell in with that man."

"That's true as gospel," observed my father; "but still, if he had said nothing worse than that, I should not have minded. I do think that Jack is now old enough to do something better; and I must say, I do not dislike his wishing so to do for it is begging for half-pence, arter all."

"Well, boy," said Peter Anderson, "suppose you leave your father and me to talk over the matter; and to-morrow by this time, we will tell you what we think will be best."

"Anything: anything," replied I, "but being a beggar."

"Go along, you are a foolish boy," said Anderson.

"I like his spirit, though," said my father, as I walked

away.

On the next day, the important question was to be decided. I did not go to the stairs, to follow up my vocation. I had talked the matter over with Virginia; who, although she did not like that I should go away, had agreed with me that she objected to my begging for money. I waited very impatiently for the time that Anderson had appointed; and, at last, he and my father came together, when the former said

"Well, Jack; it appears that you do not like to be a waterman; and that you have no great fancy for a man-ofwar, although you have a hankering for the sea. Now, as you cannot cruise with your friend Spicer on the Spanish Main, nor yet be safe from impressment in a privateer or merchantman, we have been thinking that, perhaps, you would have no objection to be a channel and river pilot; and if so, I have an old friend in that service, who, I think, may help you. What do you say?"

"I should like it very much."

"Yes, it is a good service, and a man is usefully employed. You may be the means, as soon as you are out of your time, and have passed your examination, of saving many a vessel and more lives. You have had a pretty fair education, indeed quite sufficient; and, as you

will often be coming up the river, you will have opportunities of seeing your father and your friends. If you decide, I will write at once."

"It is the very thing that I should like," replied I; "and many thanks to you, Anderson."

"And it's exactly what I should wish, also,” replied my father. "So that job's jobbed, as the saying is."

After this arrangement, I walked away as proud as if I had been an emancipated slave: that very evening I announced my intention of resigning my office of "Poor Jack;" and named as my successor the boy with whom I had fought so desperately to obtain it, when the prospect was held out to me, by old Ben, of my becoming Poor Jack-for ever!

Chapter XX

Much ado about nothing; or a specimen of modern patronage.

I COMMUNICATED to my mother and Virginia my father's intentions relative to my future employ, and was not surprised to find my mother very much pleased with the intelligence; for she had always considered my situation. of "Poor Jack" as disgracing her family-declaring it the "most ungenteelest" of all occupations. Perhaps she was not only glad of my giving up the situation, but also of my quitting her house. My father desired me to wear my Sunday clothes during the week, and ordered me a new suit for my best, which he paid for out of the money which he had placed in the hands of the Lieutenant of the Hospital; and I was very much surprised to perceive my mother cutting out half a dozen new shirts for me, which she and Virginia were employed making up during the evenings. Not that my mother told me who the shirts were for-she said nothing; but Virginia whispered it to me; my mother could not be even gracious to me; nevertheless, the shirts and several other