or pound--dormant until their life-steam sets them
going.

The gale increased in violence. We got now the
lift of the steamer's bow, staggering under tons of
water, and the whir of the screw in mid-air. The
captain glanced at the barometer, drew his body to its
full height, reached for his storm-coat, slipped it on,
and was about to swing back the door opening on the
deck, when the chirp of a canary rang through the
room. At the sound he turned quickly and walked
back to where the cage hung.

"Ho, little man!" he cried in the same tone of
voice in which he would have addressed a child;
"woke you up, did we? Sorry, old fellow; tuck your
head down again and take another nap."

The bird stretched out its bill, fluttered its wings,
pecked at the captain's outstretched finger, and burst
into song.

"Yours, captain?" I had not noticed the bird
before.

"Yes; had him for years."

Instantly the absurdity of the companionship broke
upon me. What possible comfort, I thought, could
a man like the captain take in so tiny a creature?