THE WIDE SEA. 258

bee’s dingy palace, and began an investigation in the unvisited portion
of the forward house. To the explorer’s delight, he found an open
door near the bows of the vessel.

“Tt must be the forecastle,” exclaimed Rick; and he thrust in
his inquisitive head. “Who is that so chunky sitting on a chest?”
he thought.

The “chunky” sailor turned and sang out merrily, “Ho! Boson, you
bere?”

“And you here, Mr. Bobstay ?”

“Of course. Come in and see Old Neptin in th» forec’stle.”

“This is the for- for - castle ?”

“Yes; don’t you see the sleeping-places ?”

There were twelve berths round the dusky little hole.

“Well, where do you sit? Don’t you have chairs?”

“ Saltpetre! what a boson. We sit on these ere kids,” and Jack
slapped the battered blue chest he occupied.

Rick saw three little windows, admitting a kind of twilight into
the forecastle ; and a funnel-hole above showed that a stove had been
there some time.

“And this is all?” asked Rick.

“All? Yes; did you expect more?”

Rick did not answer, but inquired for Siah.

“Siah? There is his berth, but I don’t know where the occupant
is.”

Rick here took out of his pocket a brilliant little picture of a forest
in autumn, and pinned it to the dingy wail.

“.There! Doesn’t that look better?”

“Boson goin’ to brighten and fix up this old hole?” Jack Bobstay
laughed at the idea. Those dirty walls, the blackened funnel-hole,
the disorderly berths, did seem so forlorn!