A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA.

The smack-owner was not wholly wrong in his judgment, but neither
of the boys would have confessed so much even to themselves.
A man with a sunburnt face was mopping the deck of a steamer as they

turned.
“Do you want any cabin-boys?” asked Dick bravely.‘ We aren't afraid

of work.” The sailor winked at one of his mates.

‘Well, lend a hand,” he said, making over the mop to Dick.

The color rushed into Dick's face. To work in theory was one thing, in
practice another. He could not manage the long handle, his legs insisted on
getting in the way; he had never imagined a mop was such a stupid, clumsy
thing. He floundered about hopelessly for a few minutes, splashing the
water all around him, and finally slipping, fell full length on the wet planking
of the deck.

Jack, carried away by the novel sight, had quite forgotten his assumed
character of cabin-boy, and with a merry shout clapped his hands at Dick’s
discomfiture, while the good-natured sailors could not resist a laugh at his

expense.
“You young idiot!” cried Dick angrily, as he approached Jack, and
anxious to throw any blame upon him. ‘“ Of course we sha’n't get any work

if you are so foolish. Any fellow may have an accident. I shall go off on
my own hook if you don’t take care.”

Jack's spirits sank. Adventures in company were fun. Desertion could
not bear contemplation.

Again the boys
from ship to ship,
of encouragement in
around them.
cried a broad-shoul-
boys gazed intently
close to the landing
you hanging about
watching you during

“We want work,”
checking a yawn.
what we do,” chimed
up. ‘And we won't

 

wandered aimlessly
discerning no signs
the busy faces
“Come here,”
dered man, as the
at a large vessel
stage. ‘What are
for? I have been
an hour or more.”
said Jack faintly, and
“We don’t mind
in Dick, backing him
eat much.”