much need of some one to take charge of his vessel, as she did not attract the highest order of captain.  The Dutchman had no Board of Trade master or mate certificate; he was merely a sailor.  James Leigh was discovered in pretty much the same way as the captain, and the owner took a strong liking to him at the outset.  He was good to look at, and gifted with a bright intelligence which made him attractive, besides having the advantage of knowing something about navigation.  The chief mate’s berth was offered to him and accepted.  Furthermore, it was suggested that he should visit and stay at the owner’s house, whenever the vessel was in port and his services were not required aboard, and seeing that he was not yet eighteen, he felt flattered at the distinction that had been thrust upon him.  Perhaps he accepted the invitation all the more readily as he was informed by his employer that he had two daughters that would like to make his acquaintance.

The first voyage was to Coronel and back with coal to Iquique.  Mr. Leigh, as he was now addressed by everybody, on the ship or ashore, had intimated to his commander that he liked his berth for the prospects that might open up to him, but he didn’t relish the thought of having to pump so continuously; whereupon Captain Vandertallen winked hard at him, and strongly urged that it should be put up with, and to keep his eye on the girls who were to inherit their father’s fortune.

“I tink,” said he, “I vill marry de one and you vill have de other.”

“I don’t know about that,” retorted James Leigh.  “You see I’ve a girl at home, and somehow I thinks a lot about her.  But a bit of money makes a difference; I must think it over.”

Quarterdeck etiquette was not observed between the two men.  The captain addressed his first officer as Jim, and Jim addressed his captain as “Dutchy.”  This familiarity was arrived at soon after they came together, owing to a strong difference of opinion on some point of seamanship which had to do with the way a topgallant sail ought to be taken in without running any risk of splitting it.  The quarrel was furious.  Jim had called his commander “a blithering, fat-headed Dutchman, not fit to have charge of a dung barge, much less a square-rigged ship.  Captain Kickem of the Pacific would not have carried you as ballast.”

Vandertallen was almost inarticulate.  He frothed out—­

“Yes, an’ you he vould not carry at all; you too much chick.  Remember I the captain, and I vill discharge you at first port.”

“Oh, you go to h——!”

“No, I vill not go to h——.  I’ll just stay here, and you can go to ——.  You jist a boy.”

“All right, Dutchy,” replied the refractory mate; “you’ll want me before I want you.”

And this was a correct prediction, as, a few days later, Dutchy lost himself, and was obliged to come to his mate and ask the true position of the vessel.

“I am not captain,” said he.  “Do it yourself; you are a very clever fellow.”