“Impossible,” said Ruby, with a sigh.

“No so, lad; what’s to hinder?—­Ah! there she goes.”

The pipe fell with a crash to the floor, and burst with a Bright shower of sparks, like a little bombshell.

“That’s the third, Ruby, since I turned in,” said the captain, getting slowly over the side of his hammock, and alighting on the floor heavily.  “I won’t git up again if it goes another time.”

After knocking off the chimney-piece five or six articles which appeared to be made of tin from the noise they made in falling, the captain succeeded in getting hold of another pipe and the tinder-box, for in those days flint and steel were the implements generally used in procuring a light.  With much trouble he re-lit the pipe.

“Now, Ruby, lad, hold it till I tumble in.”

“But I can’t see the stem, uncle.”

“What a speech for a seaman to make!  Don’t you see the fire in the bowl?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, just make a grab two inches astarn of the bowl and you’ll hook the stem.”

The captain was looking earnestly into the bowl while he spoke, stuffing down the burning tobacco with the end of his little finger.  Ruby, acting in rather too prompt obedience to the instructions, made a “grab” as directed, and caught his uncle by the nose.

A yell and an apology followed of course, in the midst of which the fourth pipe was demolished.

“Oh! uncle, what a pity!”

“Ah!  Ruby, that comes o’ inconsiderate youth, which philosophers tell us is the nat’ral consequence of unavoidable necessity, for you can’t put a young head on old shoulders, d’ye see?”

From the tone in which this was said Ruby knew that the captain was shaking his head gravely, and from the noise of articles being kicked about and falling, he became aware that the unconquerable man was filling a fifth pipe.

This one was more successfully managed, and the captain once more got into his hammock, and began to enjoy himself.

“Well, Ruby, where was I?  O ay; what’s to hinder you goin’ and gettin’ employed in the Bell Rock workyard?  There’s plenty to do, and good wages there.”

It may be as well to inform the reader here, that although the operations at the Bell Rock had come to an end for the season about the beginning of October, the work of hewing the stones for the lighthouse was carried on briskly during the winter at the workyard on shore; and as the tools, &c., required constant sharpening and mending, a blacksmith could not be dispensed with.

“Do you think I can get in again?” enquired Ruby.

“No doubt of it, lad.  But the question is, are ye willin’ to go if they’ll take you?”

“Quite willing, uncle.”

“Good:  then that’s all square, an’ I knows how to lay my course—­up anchor to-morrow mornin’, crowd all sail, bear down on the workyard, bring-to off the countin’-room, and open fire on the superintendent.”