"Just so. Well now, Nigel, you don't suppose, do you, that I'm goin' to
keep you here for some months knockin' about with nothin' to do--eatin'
your grub in idleness?"

"Certainly not," said the youth, regarding the stern countenance of his
parent with an amused look. "I have no intention of acting such an
ignoble part, and I'm surprised at you askin' the question, for you know
I am not lazy--at least not more so than average active men--and there
must be plenty of work for me to do in looking after the cargo,
superintending repairs, taking care of the ship and men. I wonder at
you, father. You must either have had a shock of dotage, or fallen into
a poetical vein. What is a first mate fit for if--"

"Nigel," said Captain Roy, interrupting, "I'm the owner an' commander of
the _Sunshine_, besides bein' the paternal parent of an impertinent son,
and I claim to have the right to do as I please--therefore, hold your
tongue and listen to me."

"All right, father," replied the young man, with a benignant grin;
"proceed, but don't be hard upon me; spare my feelings."

"Well now, this is how the land lies," said the old seaman, resting his
elbows on the table and clasping his hands before him. "As Mr. Moor and
I, with the stooard and men, are quite sufficient to manage the affairs
o' the brig, and as we shall certainly be here for a considerable time
to come, I've made up my mind to give you a holiday. You're young, you
see, an' foolish, and your mind needs improvin'. In short, you want a
good deal o' the poetry knocked out o' you, for it's not like your
mother's poetry by any means, so you needn't flatter yourself--not built
on the same lines by a long way. Well--where was I?"