'When a man 'as breakfast every day, he don't know what it is,' observed

the clerk.

'The next point is dinner,' said Herrick; and then with a passionate

utterance: 'I wish to God I was a Kanaka!'

'There's one thing sure,' said the captain. 'I'm about desperate, I'd

rather hang than rot here much longer.' And with the word he took the

accordion and struck up. 'Home, sweet home.'

'O, drop that!' cried Herrick, 'I can't stand that.'

'No more can I,' said the captain. 'I've got to play something though:

got to pay the shot, my son.' And he struck up 'John Brown's Body' in

a fine sweet baritone: 'Dandy Jim of Carolina,' came next; 'Rorin the

Bold,' 'Swing low, Sweet Chariot,' and 'The Beautiful Land' followed.

The captain was paying his shot with usury, as he had done many a

time before; many a meal had he bought with the same currency from the

melodious-minded natives, always, as now, to their delight.

He was in the middle of 'Fifteen Dollars in the Inside Pocket,' singing

with dogged energy, for the task went sore against the grain, when a

sensation was suddenly to be observed among the crew.

'Tapena Tom harry my,' said the spokesman, pointing.

And the three beachcombers, following his indication, saw the figure of

The Ebb-Tide