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unmelodiously, snatches of a rude song, and fingering a pack of cards. Ever and anon the light from his cigar gave a touch of colour to his face. Now then, bullies, he said briskly, six of you walk the plank to-night, but I have room for two cabin boys. Which of you is it to be? Dont irritate him unnecessarily, had been Wendys instructions in the hold; so Tootles stepped forward politely. Tootles hated the idea of signing under such a man, but an instinct told him that it would be prudent to lay the responsibility on an absent person; and though a somewhat silly boy, he knew that mothers alone are always willing to be the buffer. All know this about mothers, and despise them for it, but make constant use of it. So Tootles explained prudently, You


like a cut flower. His dogs thinking him out of the way for a time, discipline instantly relaxed; and they broke into a bacchanalian like a cut flower. His dogs thinking him out of the way for a time, discipline instantly relaxed; and they broke into a bacchanalian [drunken] dance, which brought him to his feet at once, all traces of human weakness gone, as if a bucket of water had passed over him. Quiet, you scugs, he cried, or Ill cast anchor in you; and at once the din was hushed. Are all the chained, so that they cannot fly away? Ay, ay. Then hoist them up. The wretched prisoners were dragged from the hold, all except Wendy, and ranged in line in front of him. For a time he seemed unconscious of their presence. He lolled at his ease, humming, not dance, which brought him to his feet at once, all traces of human weakness gone, as if a bucket of water had passed over him. Quiet, you scugs, he cried, or Ill cast anchor in you; and at once the din was hushed. Are all the chained, so that they cannot fly away? Ay, ay. Then hoist them up. The wretched prisoners were dragged from the hold, all except Wendy, and ranged in line in front of him. For a time he seemed unconscious of their presence. He lolled at his ease, humming, not


conviction that all feared him. Feared him Feared Smee There was not a child on board the brig that night who did not already love him. He had said horrid things to them and hit them with the palm of his hand, because he could not hit with his fist, but they had only clung to him the more. Michael had tried on his spectacles. To tell poor Smee that they thought him lovable Hook itched to do it, but it seemed too brutal. Instead, he revolved this mystery in his mind: why do they find Smee lovable? He


see, sir, I dont think my mother would like me to be a pirate. Would your mother like you to be a pirate, Slightly? He winked at Slightly, who said mournfully, I dont think so, as if he wished things had been otherwise. Would your mother like you to be a pirate, Twin? I dont think so, said the first twin, as clever as the others. Nibs, would— Stow this gab, roared Hook, and the spokesmen were dragged back. You, boy, he said, addressing John, you look as if you had a little pluck in you. Didst never want to be a pirate, my hearty? Now John had sometimes experienced this hankering at maths. prep.; and he was struck by Hooks picking