“The weather is moderate, Madam Budd; quite moderate,” observed Spike, a sentimental turn coming over him at the moment.  “What I call moderate and agreeable.”

“So much the better for us; the ladies are fond of moderation, sir.”

“Not in admiration, Madam Budd—­ha! ha! ha! no, not in admiration.  Immoderation is what they like when it comes to that.  I’m a single man, but I know that the ladies like admiration—­mind where you’re sheering to,” the captain said, interrupting himself a little fiercely, considering the nature of the subject, in consequence of Jack Tier’s having trodden on his toe in passing—­“or I’ll teach you the navigation of the quarter-deck, Mr. Burgoo!”

“Moderation—­moderation, my good captain,” said the simpering relict.  “As to admiration, I confess that it is agreeable to us ladies; more especially when it comes from gentlemen of sense, and intelligence, and experience.”

Rose fidgeted, having heard every word that was said, and her face flushed; for she doubted not that Harry’s ears were as good as her own.  As for the man at the wheel, he turned the tobacco over in his mouth, hitched up his trousers, and appeared interested, though somewhat mystified—­the conversation was what he would have termed “talking dictionary,” and he had some curiosity to learn how the captain would work his way out of it.  It is probable that Spike himself had some similar gleamings of the difficulties of his position, for he looked a little troubled, though still resolute.  It was the first time he had ever lain yard-arm and yard-arm with a widow, and he had long entertained a fancy that such a situation was trying to the best of men.

“Yes, Madam Budd, yes,” he said, “exper’ence and sense carry weight with ’em, wherever they go.  I’m glad to find that you entertain these just notions of us gentlemen, and make a difference between boys and them that’s seen and known exper’ence.  For my part, I count youngsters under forty as so much lumber about decks, as to any comfort and calculations in keepin’ a family, as a family ought to be kept.”

Mrs. Budd looked interested, but she remained silent on hearing this remark, as became her sex.

“Every man ought to settle in life, some time or other, Madam Budd, accordin’ to my notion, though no man ought to be in a boyish haste about it,” continued the captain.  “Now, in my own case, I’ve been so busy all my youth—­not that I’m very old now, but I’m no boy—­but all my younger days have been passed in trying to make things meet, in a way to put any lady who might take a fancy to me—­”

“Oh! captain—­that is too strong!  The ladies do not take fancies for gentlemen, but the gentlemen take fancies for ladies!”