“This poor orphan commenced life sadly,” observed Mrs. Weldon.  “He has been in a hard school!”

“Doubtless, Mrs. Weldon; but the lessons have not been lost on him.  He has learned that he must make his own way in this world, and he is in a fair way to do it.”

“Yes, the way of duty!”

“Look at him now, Mrs. Weldon,” continued Captain Hull.  “He is at the helm, his eye fixed on the point of the foresail.  No distraction on the part of this young novice, as well as no lurch to the ship.  Dick Sand has already the confidence of an old steersman.  A good beginning for a seaman.  Our craft, Mrs. Weldon, is one of those in which it is necessary to begin very young.  He who has not been a cabin-boy will never arrive at being a perfect seaman, at least in the merchant marine.  Everything must be learned, and, consequently, everything must be at the same time instinctive and rational with the sailor—­the resolution to grasp, as well as the skill to execute.”

“Meanwhile, Captain Hull,” replied Mrs. Weldon, “good officers are not lacking in the navy.”

“No,” replied Captain Hull; “but, in my opinion, the best have almost all begun their career as children, and, without speaking of Nelson and a few others, the worst are not those who began by being cabin-boys.”

At that moment they saw Cousin Benedict springing up from the rear companion-way.  As usual he was absorbed, and as little conscious of this world as the Prophet Elias will be when he returns to the earth.

Cousin Benedict began to walk about on the deck like an uneasy spirit, examining closely the interstices of the netting, rummaging under the hen-cages, putting his hand between the seams of the deck, there, where the pitch had scaled off.

“Ah!  Cousin Benedict,” asked Mrs. Weldon, “do you keep well?”

“Yes—­Cousin Weldon—­I am well, certainly—­but I am in a hurry to get on land.”

“What are you looking for under that bench, Mr. Benedict?” asked Captain Hull.

“Insects, sir,” returned Cousin Benedict.  “What do you expect me to look for, if not insects?”

“Insects!  Faith, I must agree with you; but it is not at sea that you will enrich your collection.”

“And why not, sir?  It is not impossible to find on board some specimen of——­”

“Cousin Benedict,” said Mrs. Weldon, “do you then slander Captain Hull?  His ship is so well kept, that you will return empty-handed from your hunt.”

Captain Hull began to laugh.

“Mrs. Weldon exaggerates,” replied he.  “However, Mr. Benedict, I believe you will lose your time rummaging in our cabins.”

“Ah!  I know it well,” cried Cousin Benedict, shrugging his shoulders.  “I have had a good search——­”

“But, in the ‘Pilgrim’s’ hold,” continued Captain Hull, “perhaps you will find some cockroaches—­subjects of little interest, however.”

“Of little interest, those nocturnal orthopters which have incurred the maledictions of Virgil and Horace!” retorted Cousin Benedict, standing up straight.  “Of little interest, those near relations of the ‘periplaneta orientalis’ and of the American kakerlac, which inhabit——­”