then neb's bell clanged out for dinner, that was served on the long table in the cabin, shipshape, but without any of the frills used on land. there was a deep earthen dish brimming with chowder, a wonderful concoction that only old salts like neb can make. it had a bit of everything within killykinick reach--clams and fish and pork and potatoes, onions and peppers and hard-tack,--all simmering together, piping hot, in a most appetizing way, even though it had to be "doused" out with a tin ladle into yellow bowls. there was plenty of good bread, thick and "filling"; a platter of bacon and greens, and a dish of rice curried after a fashion neb had learned cruising in the china sea. last of all, and borne in triumphantly by the cook himself, was a big smoking "plum duff" with cream sauce. there is a base imitation of "duff" known to landsmen as batter pudding; but the real plum duff of shining golden yellow, stuffed full of plums like jack horner's pie, is all the sailor's own.

dan plunged at once into his new duties of second mate. both jeb and neb were well past seventy, and, while still hale and hearty, were not so nimble as they had been forty years ago; so a second mate, with light feet and deft hands, proved most helpful, now that the "lady jane" had taken in a double crew.

dan cleared the table and washed the dishes with a celerity bewildering to the slow brain dulled by the marline spike. he swabbed up the galley under neb's gruff direction; he fed the chickens and milked the cow. for a brief space in two summers of his early life, dan had been borne off by an angel guardian society to its fresh air home, a plain, old-fashioned farmhouse some miles from his native city; and, being a keen-eyed youngster even then, he had left swings and seesaws to less interested observers, and trudged around the fields, the henhouse, the dairies, the barns, watching the digging and the planting, the feeding and the milking; so that the ways of cows and chickens were not altogether beyond his ken.

"sure and yer board and keep was to be paid for with the rest, lad," said brother bart, kindly.

"i don't want it paid, brother," replied dan. "st. andrew's does enough for me. i'd a heap rather work for myself out here."

"whether that is decent spirit or sinful pride i'm not scholar enough to tell," said the good brother in perplexity. "it takes a wise man sometimes to know the differ; but i'm thinking" (and there was a friendly gleam in the old man's eyes) "if i was a strapping lad like you, i would feel the same. so work your own way if you will, danny lad, and god bless you at it!"

even heartier was the well-wishing of captain jeb after his first day's experience with his second officer.

"you're all right, matie!" he said, slapping dan-on the shoulder. "there will be no loafing on your watch, i kin see. you're the clipper build i like. them others ain't made to stand rough weather; but as i take it, you're a sort of mother carey chicken that's been nested in the storm. and i don't think you'll care to be boxed up below with them fair-weather chaps. suppose, being second mate, you swing a hammock up on the deck with jeb and me?"

"jing! i'd like that first rate," was the delighted answer.

and, as brother bart had no fear of danger on the "lady jane," dan entered on all the privileges of his position. while freddy and dud and jim took possession of the sheltered cabin, and the dignity of the padre (so it seemed to captain jeb) demanded the state and privacy of the captain's room, dan swung his hammock up on deck, where it swayed delightfully in the wind, while the stout awnings close-reefed in fair weather gave full view of the sea and the stars.

he slept like a child cradled in its mother's arms, and was up betimes to plunge into a stretch of sheltered waves, still rosy with the sunrise, for a morning bath such as no porcelain tub could offer; and then to start off with old neb, who, like other wise householders, began the day's work early. neb might be deaf and dull, and, in boyish parlance, a trifle "dippy"; but he knew the ways of fish, from whales to minnows. he had a boat of his own, with its nets and seines and lines, that not even the sturdy old captain in the days of his command dared touch.

that dan was allowed to handle the oars this first morning proved that the second mate had already established himself firmly in neb's favor. but, as wharf rat, dan had gained some knowledge of boats and oars; and he was able to do his part under the old salt's gruff direction. they went far out beyond shoal and reef; beyond numskull nob (whose light was still blinking faintly in the glow of the sunrise), into deep waters, where the fishing fleet could be seen already at work in the blue distance hauling up big catches of cod, halibut, and other game.

"that ain't fishing!" growled old neb. "it's durned mean killing."

"and isn't all fishing killing?" asked dan, as they flung out their own lines.

"no," said neb. "when you cast a line, or a harpoon even, you give critters a chance; but them durned pirates thar don't give a fish no chance at all."

"did you ever cast a harpoon?" asked dan, with interest.

for a moment the dull eyes kindled, the dull face brightened, as some deadened memory seemed to stir and waken into life; then the shadow fell heavy and hopeless again.

"mebbe i did, sonny; i don't know. it's so far back i've most forgot."

but old neb's wits worked in their own way still. it took less than an hour to catch dinners for the whole killykinick crew; and the fishermen came home to find that captain jeb had been doing duty during their absence, and breakfast was ready on the long table in the cabin,--a breakfast such as none of the white-coated waiters in their late journey could beat.

captain jeb knew nothing of cereals, but he had a big bowl of mush and a pitcher of golden cream; he had bacon and eggs frizzled to a charm; he had corndodgers and coffee that filled the air with fragrance,--such coffee as old sailors look for about break of day after a middle watch. altogether, the crew of the "lady jane" found things very pleasant, and the first week at killykinick had all the interest of life in a newly discovered land. even brother bart was argued by the two old salts out of his "nervousness," and laddie was allowed to boat and fish and swim in safe waters under dan's care; while jim and dud looked out for themselves, as such big fellows should.

"thar's nothing to hurt them off thar," said captain jeb, as brother bart watched his navigators with anxious eyes pushing out over a stretch of dancing waves. "'twixt here and numskull nob you could 'most walk ashore. jest keep them out of the devil's jaw, that's all."

"the lord between us and harm!" ejaculated brother bart, in pious horror. "where is that at all?"

"the stretch of rock yonder," replied captain jeb, nodding to the northeast.

"and isn't that an awful name to give to a christian shore?" asked brother bart.

"no worse than them ar suck-holes of waves deserves," was the grim answer. "when the high tide sweeps in thar, it kerries everything with it, and them caves guzzle it all down, nobody knows whar."

"ah, god save us!" said brother bart. "it's the quare place to choose aither for life or death. i wonder at the laddie's uncle, and ye too, for staying all these years. wouldn't it be better now, at yer time of life, for ye to be saving yer soul in quiet and peace, away from the winds and the storms and the roaring seas that are beating around ye here?"

"no," was the gruff answer,--"no, padre. i couldn't live away from the winds and the storms and the waves. i couldn't die away from them either. i'd be like a deep sea-fish washed clean ashore. how them landlubbers live with everything dead and dull around them, i don't see. i ain't been out of sight of deep water since i shipped as cabin boy in the 'lady jane' nigh onto sixty years ago. i've been aloft in her rigging with the sea beating over the deck and the wind whistling so loud ye couldn't hear the cuss words the old man was a-roaring through his trumpet below. i've held her wheel through many a black night when no mortal man could tell shore from sea. i stood by her when she struck on this here reef, ripped open from stem to stern; and i'm standing by her now, 'cording to the old captain's orders, yet."

"ye may be right," said brother bart, reflectively. "it's not for me to judge ye, jeroboam." (brother bart never shortened that scriptural title.) "but i bless the lord day and night that i was not called to the sea.--what is it the boys are after now!" he added, with an anxious glance at the boat in which laddie and dan had ventured out beyond his call.

"lobsters," replied captain jeb. "them's neb's lobster pots bobbing up thar, and they've got a catch that will give us a dinner fit for a king."

"it's all to your taste," said brother bart. "barrin' fast days, of which i say nothing, i wouldn't give a good irish stew for all the fish that ever swam the seas. but laddie is thrivin' on the food here, i must say. there's a red in his cheeks i haven't seen for months; but what with the rocks and the seas and the devil's jaw foreninst them, it will be the mercy of god if i get the four boys safe home."

"you needn't fear," was the cheering assurance. "they are fine, strapping fellows, and a touch of sailor life won't harm them; though it's plain them two big chaps and little polly's boys are used to softer quarters. but for a long voyage i'd ship mate danny before any of them."

"ye would?" asked brother bart.

"aye," answered captain jeb, decisively. "don't fly no false colors, sticks to his job, ready to take hold of anything from a lobster pot to a sheet anchor,--honest grit straight through. lord, what a ship captain he would make! but they don't teach navigation at your school."

"i don't know," answered brother bart. "i'm not book-learned, as i've told ye; but there's little that isn't taught at st. andrew's that christian lads ought to know; to say nothing of god's holy law, which is best of all; but of navigation i never hear tell. i'm thinking it can't be much good."

"no good!" repeated the captain, staring. "navigation no good! lord! you're off your reckoning thar sure, padre. do you know what navigation means? it means standing on your quarter-deck and making your ship take its way over three thousand miles of ocean straight as a bird flies to its nest; it means holding her in that ar way with the waves a-swelling mountain high and the wind a-bellowing in your rigging, and a rocky shore with all its teeth set to grind her in your lee; it means knowing how to look to the sun and the stars when they're shining, and how to steer without, them when the night is too black to see. where would you and i be now, padre, if a navigator that no landlubbers could down had not struck out without map or chart to find this here america of ours hundreds of years ago?"

"i'm sure i don't know," answered brother bart. "but there seems to be sense and truth in what you say. it's a pity you haven't the light of faith."

"what would it do for me!" asked captain jeb, briefly.

"what would it do for you?" repeated brother bart. "sure it's in the black darkness you are, my man, or ye wouldn't ask. it's sailing on the sea of life ye are without sun or stars, and how ye are to find the way to heaven i don't know. do ye ever say a prayer, jeroboam?"

"no," was the gruff answer. "that's your business, padre. the lord don't expect no praying from rough old salts like me."

"sure and he does,--he does," said brother bart, roused into simple earnestness. "what is high or low to him? isn't he the lord and maker of the land and sea? doesn't he give ye life and breath and strength and health and all that ye have? and to stand up like a dumb brute under his eye and never give him a word of praise or thanks! i wonder at ye, jeroboam,--i do indeed! sure ye'd be more dacent to any mortal man that gave ye a bit and sup; but what ye're not taught, poor man, ye can't know. listen now: ye're to take us to church to-morrow according to your bargain."

"yes," said the captain, gruffly; "but thar warn't no bargain about preaching and praying and singing."

"sure i don't ask it,", said brother bart, sadly. "you're in haythen darkness, jeroboam, and i haven't the wisdom or the knowledge or the holiness to lade ye out; but there's one prayer can be said in darkness as well as in light. all i ask ye to do is to stand for a moment within the church and turn your eyes to the lamp that swings like a beacon light before the altar and whisper the words of that honest man in the bible that didn't dare to go beyant the holy door, 'o god, be merciful to me a sinner!' will ye do that?"

"wal, since that's all ye ask of me, padre," said captain jeb, reflectively, "i can't say no. i've thought them words many a time when the winds was a-howling and the seas a-raging, and it looked as if i was bound for davy jones' locker before day; but i never knew that was a fair-weather prayer. but i'll say it as you ask; and i'll avow, padre, that, for talking and praying straight to the point, you beat any preacher or parson i ever heard yet."

"preach, is it!" exclaimed brother bart. "sure i never preached in my life, and never will. but i'll hold ye to your word, jeroboam; and, with god's blessing, we'll be off betimes to-morrow morning.--here come the boys: and, holy mother, look at the boatful of clawing craythurs they have with them!"

"lobsters, brother bart!" shouted freddy, triumphantly. "lobsters, captain jeb! fine big fellows. i'm hungry as three bears."