“Rum it is,” said “Star o’ Boston,” “the last bottle left from a wreck. The air-breathers drank all the rest before they were drowned. I thought you’d like to see the bottle.” “Ay, mergirl of the crimson fins,--and more than the bottle; this must be mine!” “Not so, ‘Lord Aberdeen,’ it goes to cheer my dear father, ‘San Francisco,’ in his desolation. He much wants this warm, delicious stuff to strengthen his sore heart. Remember, to-morrow he and I are homeless.” “Circumstances alter cases,” said “Lord Aberdeen.” “Rum is a luxury, and you are not justified in giving your parent luxuries in his present financial position.” “Nevertheless, he will drink this bottle,” said “Star o’ Boston.” “Every luscious drop will go to cheer his failing spirit.” “Sit down,” replied the other. “This is a matter which cannot be settled in a moment. Recline on yonder velvet sea-moss and listen. I am willing to offer reasonable terms for that bottle.” “’Tis the seller’s place to dictate the terms,” said “Theodore H. Jackson.” “Well, perhaps so. At least let us be reasonable. Not that I am myself particularly anxious to buy the stuff,” answered the old merman, growing cautious. Nevertheless his mouth watered as he looked at the squat, four-sided bottle; he passed his hands nervously over his round bald head and licked his lips in spite of himself. “Then we need talk no more, for my terms are high. But I will not abate them. You must first undertake to let my father dwell in his cave for the remainder of his life; and you must next give to me rent free another cave suitable to a young couple beginning life--a four-caverned cave handsomely furnished. And I don’t want it more than twenty fathoms deep either.” “Quite right; it’s very important in the case of merbabies that they have ample light, with occasional visits to the sea surface for air,” declared “Theodore H. Jackson.” “All this for one bottle of rum?” asked “Lord Aberdeen” indignantly. “A thing is worth what it will fetch. Now I come to think of it, I shall want six strings of good orient pearls and fifty pounds in English money as well,” replied “Star o’ Boston,” with admirable coolness. “Death and the Kraaken!” “And--and--I shall also want----” “Done on the last bargain!” screamed “Lord Aberdeen.” He knew that the longer he waited the worse the position would become from his point of view. “Very well; ‘Theodore H. Jackson’ is our witness. You are going to give me a nice new home and let my dear father stop on in his old one. Then six strings of good pearls and fifty pounds in English money. I, in my turn, shall yield up to you this beautiful bottle of rum. I may say that my dear ruby-eyed merboy here and myself design to marry at no distant date. A little memento on that occasion will increase our regard for you considerably.”