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can see him waving his hat now. Are you goin’ to make a sailor?”

“T don’t know.”

_ Judging by appearances, it would seem as if Rick intended to be
a cook, so persistently did he haunt “Bumble-bee’s” quarters, trying
to get in.

“Jolly!” thought Rick the next day; “that door is open ;” and into
the mysterious sanctum he triumphantly stole. “Now I am going to
see what things are like in such aplace. Long and narrow; but then,
it must be snug and warm, on a cold day. Two doors too; one on
each side.”

Rick continued to look about and talk to himself.

“Here is the stove; and what a-big black one! It has got an iron
railing all round the top; that’s to keep the pots and kettles from
sliding off. And there’s a sink next the range, where ‘Bumble-bee’
must wash his dishes; and on the other side there seems to be a locker

9

for dishes and so on;” and he opened the door and peeped in. “ Oh,
there’s a seat opposite the range, where a fellow can sit down. And
here’s a door open. What’s here?”

It was a smoky little room, on the same side of this retreat as the
seat, and it contained a single berth, whose bedding testified to long
and frequent occupancy. Here, Rick heard a footstep approaching.

“Which door shall I run out of? I guess I will take this one,”
and out he popped into “ Bumble-bee’s” arms! The meeting was very
affectionate at first, but “Old Bumble-bee” recoiled.

Rick then saw that he was smoking — vigorously smoking —and it

seemed as if the cloud of smoke rolling up from his pipe had whitened
his knobs of hair.

“Ugh!” he growled; “I don’t ‘low nobody in dar, ’cept de cap'n
orders it.”
Rick humbly retreated.