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what a 'speriment is? Why it's--it's--just a 'speriment you know--a dodge."

"If you mean a dodge, why don't you say a dodge?" retorted Billy; "well, what is your dodge? look alive, for daddy'll be shoutin' for his grog in a minute."

"You jus' listen," said the cook, in a hoarse whisper, as he opened his enormous eyes to their widest, "you jus' take a wine-glass--de big 'un as your fadder be fond of--an' put in 'im two teaspoonfuls o' vinegar, one tablespoonful o' parafine hoil, one leetle pinch o' pepper, an' one big pinch ob salt with a leetle mustard, an' give 'im dat. Your fadder never take time to smell him's grog--always toss 'im off quick."

"Yes, an' then he'd toss the wine-glass into my face an' kick me round the deck afterwards, if not overboard," said Billy, with a look of contempt. "No, Zulu, I don't like your 'speriment, but you've put a notion into my head, for even when a fool speaks a wise man may learn--"

"Yes, I often tink dat," said the cook, interrupting, with a look of innocence. "You quite right, so speak away, Billy, an' I'll learn."

"You fetch me the wine-glass," said the boy, sharply.

Zulu obeyed.

"Now, fill it up with water--so, an' put in a little brown sugar to give it colour. That's enough, stir him up. Not bad rum--to _look_ at. I'll try father wi' that."

Accordingly, our little hero went on deck and handed the glass to his father--retreating a step or two, promptly yet quietly, after doing so.

As Zulu had said, David Bright did not waste time in smelling his liquor. He emptied the glass at one gulp, and then gazed at his son with closed lips and gradually widening eyes.

"It's only sugar and water, daddy," said Billy, uncertain whether to laugh or look grave.

For a few moments the skipper was speechless. Then his face flushed, and he said in a voice of thunder, "Go below an' fetch up the keg."

There was no disobeying _that_ order! The poor boy leaped down the ladder and seized the rum-keg.

"Your 'speriment might have been better after all, Zulu," he whispered as he passed up again, and stood before his father.

What may have passed in the mind of that father during the brief interval we cannot tell, but he still stood with the empty wine-glass in his hand and a fierce expression on his face.

To Billy's surprise, however, instead of seizing the keg and filling out a bumper, he said sternly--"See here," and tossed the wine-glass into the sea. "Now lad," he added, in a quiet voice, "throw that keg after it."

The poor boy looked at his sire with wondering eyes, and hesitated.

"Overboard with it!" said David Bright in a voice of decision.

With a mingling of wild amazement, glee, and good-will, Billy, exerting all his strength, hurled the rum-keg into the air, and it fell with a heavy splash upon the sea.

"There, Billy," said David, placing his hand gently on the boy's head, "you go below and say your prayers, an' if ye don't know how to pray, get Luke Trevor to teach you, an' don't forget to thank God that your old father's bin an' done it at last."

We are not informed how far Billy complied with these remarkable orders, but certain we are that David Bright did not taste a drop of strong drink during the remainder of that voyage. Whether he tasted it afterwards at all must be left for this chronicle to tell at the proper time and place.

At present it is necessary that we should return to Yarmouth, where Captain Bream, in pursuance of his deep-laid schemes, entered a bookseller's shop and made a sweeping demand for theological literature.

"What particular work do you require, sir?" asked the surprised and somewhat amused bookseller.

"I don't know that I want any one in particular," said the captain, "I want pretty well all that have bin published up to this date. You know the names of 'em all, I suppose?"

"Indeed no, sir," answered the man with a look of uncertainty. "Theological works are very numerous, and some of them very expensive. Perhaps if--"

"Now, look here. I've got neither time nor inclination to get upon the subject just now," said the captain. "You just set your clerk to work to make out a list o' the principal works o' the kind you've got on hand, an' I'll come back in the evenin' to see about it. Never mind the price. I won't stick at that--nor yet the quality. Anything that throws light on religion will do."

"But, sir," said the shopman, "some of the theological works of the present day are supposed--at least by the orthodox--to throw darkness instead of light on religion."

"All right," returned the captain, "throw 'em all in. I don't expect divines to agree any more than doctors. Besides, I've got a chart to steer by, called the Bible, that'll keep me clear o' rocks an' shoals. You make your mind easy, an' do as I bid you. Get the books together by six o'clock this evening, an' the account made out, for I always pay cash down. Good-day."

Leaving the bookseller to employ himself with this astounding "order," Captain Bream next went to that part of the town which faces the sea-beach, and knocked at the door of a house in the window of which was a ticket with "lodgings" inscribed on it.

"Let me see your rooms, my good girl," said the captain to the little maid who opened the door.

The little maid looked up at the captain with some surprise and no little hesitancy. She evidently feared either that the rooms would not be suitable for the applicant or that the applicant would not be suitable for the rooms. She admitted him, however, and, leading him up-stairs, ushered him into the parlour of the establishment.

"Splendid!" exclaimed the captain on beholding the large window, from which there was seen a glorious view of the sea, so near that the ships passing through the deep water close to the beach seemed as if they were trying which of them could sail nearest to land without grounding.

"Splendid!" he repeated with immense satisfaction as he turned from the view to the room itself; "now this is what I call fortunate. The very thing--sofa for Miss Jessie--easy-chair for Miss Kate--rocking chair for both of 'em. Nothin' quite suitable for me, (looking round), but that's not difficult to remedy. Glass over the chimney to see their pretty faces in, and what have we here--a press?"

"No, sir," said the little maid, pushing open the door, "a small room off this one, sir."

"Glorious!" shouted the captain, entering and striking the top of the door-way with his head in doing so. "Nothing could be better. This is the theological library! Just the thing--good-sized window, same view, small table, and--well, I declare! if there ain't _empty_ bookshelves!"

"Very sorry, sir," said the little maid, hastening to apologise; "we have no books, but they'll be handy for any books you may bring to the sea-side with you, sir, or for any little knick-knacks and odds and ends."

"Yes, yes, my good girl. I'll fetch a few theological odds and ends to-night that'll p'r'aps fill 'em up. By the way, you've a bedroom, I hope?"

He looked anxious, and the maid, who seemed inclined to laugh, said that of course they had, a nice airy bedroom on the same floor on the other side of the passage--also commanding the sea.

The captain's face beamed again.

"And now, my girl--but, by the way, I shall want another bedroom. Have you--"

"I'm sorry to say that we have not. The rest of the house is quite full."

Captain Bream's face again became anxious. "That's bad," he said; "of course I can get one out o' the house, but it would be inconvenient."

"There _is_ a hattic, sir," said the maid, "but it is 'igh up, and so very small, that I fear--"

"Let me see the attic," said the captain, promptly.

The maid conducted him up another flight of steps to a room, or rather closet, which did not appear to be more than five feet broad and barely six feet long; including the storm-window, it might have been perhaps seven feet long. It was situated in a sort of angle, so that from the window you could have a view of a piece of slate roof, and two crooked chimney pots with a slice of the sea between them. As there was much traffic on the sea off that coast, the slice referred to frequently exhibited a ship or a boat for a few seconds.

"My study!" murmured the captain, looking round on the bare walls, and the wooden chair, and a low bedstead which constituted the furniture. "Not much room for the intellect to expand here. However, I've seen worse."

"We consider it a very good hattic, sir," said the little maid, somewhat hurt by the last remark.

"I meant no offence, my dear," said the captain, with one of his blandest smiles, "only the berth _is_ rather small, d'ee see, for a man of my size. It is first-rate as far as it goes, but if it went a little further--in the direction of the sea, you know--it might give me a little more room to kick about my legs. But it'll do. It'll do. I'll take all the rooms, so you'll consider them engaged."

"But you haven't asked the price of 'em yet sir," said the little maid.

"I don't care tuppence about the price, my dear. Are you the landlady?"

"La! no, sir," replied the girl, laughing outright as they returned to the parlour.

"Well then, you send the landlady to me, and I'll soon settle matters."

When the landlady appeared, the captain was as good as his word. He at once agreed to her terms, as well as her stipulations, and paid the first week's rent in advance on the spot.

"Now," said he, on leaving, "I'll come back this evening with a lot of books. To-morrow forenoon, the ladies for whom the rooms are taken will arrive, please God, and you will have everything ready and in apple-pie order for 'em. I'll see about grub afterwards, but in the meantime you may give orders to have sent in to-morrow a lot o' fresh eggs and milk and cream--lots of cream--and fresh butter and tea and coffee an' suchlike. But I needn't do more than give a wink to a lady of your experience."

With this last gallant remark Captain Bream left the lodging and strolled down to the sea-beach.


CHAPTER FOURTEEN.


RUTH'S HOPES AS TO HER PLOT BRIGHTEN A LITTLE.



"Mother," said Ruth one day to her dignified parent, "shall you be soon free of engagements?"

"Yes, probably by the end of next week. Why do you ask?"

"Because I am longing to get away to Yarmouth. I had a letter from dear Kate Seaward to-day. They have been a week in their lodging now, and are enjoying it immensely. Here is the letter. Let me read a bit of it to you. She says:

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