'Thank you, captain,' said Herrick. 'I never liked you better.'

They shook hands, short and hard, with eyes averted, tenderness swelling

in their bosoms.

'Now, boys! to work again at lying!' said the captain.

'I'll give my father up,' returned Herrick with a writhen smile. 'I'll

try my sweetheart instead for a change of evils.'

And here is what he wrote:

'Emma, I have scratched out the beginning to my father, for I think I

can write more easily to you. This is my last farewell to all, the last

you will ever hear or see of an unworthy friend and son. I have failed

in life; I am quite broken down and disgraced. I pass under a false

name; you will have to tell my father that with all your kindness. It is

my own fault. I know, had I chosen, that I might have done well; and yet

I swear to you I tried to choose. I could not bear that you should think

I did not try. For I loved you all; you must never doubt me in that,

you least of all. I have always unceasingly loved, but what was my love

worth? and what was I worth? I had not the manhood of a common clerk,

I could not work to earn you; I have lost you now, and for your sake I

could be glad of it. When you first came to my father's house--do you

remember those days? I want you to--you saw the best of me then, all

that was good in me. Do you remember the day I took your hand and would

not let it go--and the day on Battersea Bridge, when we were looking at

The Ebb-Tide