Mr. James Young, of South Shields, whose many vessels were distinguished by having a frying-pan at the foretopgallant or royal mast-head, had a brig at Cronstadt which had been waiting unloaded for some days.  Her master was one of the old illiterate class.  His peace of mind was much disturbed at Mr. Young’s indifference.  At last he got a telegram asking him to wire the best freights offering.  He proceeded to St. Petersburg, bounced into Mr. Charles Maynard’s office, and introduced himself as Mark Gaze, one of Jimmy Young’s skippers.

“Well,” said Mr. Maynard, in his polite way, “and what can I do for you, Captain Gaze?”

“Dee for me, sorr?  Wire the aad villain that she’s been lyin’ a week discharged.”

“Yes,” said the broker, writing down something very different.  “And what else?”

“Tell him,” said Mark, “te fetch the aad keel back te the Gut, and let hor lie and rot wheor he can see hor!”

“Very good,” said Maynard, still waiting; “and what else?”

“Whaat else?  Oh, tell him to gan to h——­, and say Mark Gaze says see.  Ask him whaat the blazes he means be runnin’ the risk of gettin’ hor frozzen in.  Say aa’ll seun be at Shields owerland, if he dizzen’t mind whaat he’s aboot.”

“Well, now,” said the agent, “I think we have got to the bottom of things.  We’ll send this telegram off; but before it goes, would you like me to read it to you?”

“For God’s sake send the d——­ thing away!” said Mark.  “And tell him te come and tyek the aad beast hyem hissel; or, if he likes, aa’ll run hor on te Hogland for him.”

“Well, you do seem to understand your owner and speak plainly to him.  I should think he knows he has got an excellent master who looks after his interest.”

“Interest!  What diz he knaa aboot interest?  He knaas mair aboot the West Docks.  Understand him, d’ye say?  If aa divvent, thor’s neebody in his employ diz.  Aa’ve been forty-five years wiv him and his fethor tegithor.  Aa sarved me time wiv him.  He dorsent say a word, or aa’d tell him to take his ship to h——­ wiv him.”

“That is really capital,” said the much amused agent.  “Now, what do you say, captain, if we have some light refreshment and a cigar?”

“Ay, that’s what aa caal business.  But aa nivvor tyek leet refreshment.  Ma drink is brandy or whisky neat,” said Captain Gaze, his face beaming with good-nature.

They proceeded to a restaurant, and when they got nicely settled down with their drinks and smokes, the skipper remarked—­

“Aa wonder what Jimmie waad say if he could see Mark Gaze sittin’ in a hotel hevvin’ his whisky and smokin’ a cigar?”

“I should think,” said Mr. Maynard, “he would raise your wages, or give you command of a larger ship.”  And then there was hearty laughter.

Captain Gaze had a profound dislike to Russians, and more than once narrowly escaped severe punishment for showing it.  I have often heard him swearing frightfully at the men passing deals from the lighters into the bow ports of his vessel, and declaring that God Almighty must have had little on hand when he put them on earth.  Certainly he would have considered it an act of gross injustice if, having killed or drowned any of them, he had been punished for it.