principal part of his life on sea, in a position where his word was law, he was, as most old sea-captains are, intolerant of opposition. Having given the word, he would not depart from it. Consequently, second-mate Liddle found that all his arguments and rhapsodies were as wind--a fluid which is much more useful at sea than on land, however it is produced. Bessie, as it proved, possessed a goodly share of her old father's determination of character. Having fallen in love with second-mate Liddle, and having determined to marry him or die an old maid, she informed her lover that if he would be faithful to her, she would be faithful to him--a form of declaration which has been very popular from time immemorial. The pledge being sealed by the infatuated ones in the usual manner--that is, with much protestation, with much unnecessary solemnity, (as if they were doomed to execution, and were to be beheaded within a few hours), with many kisses and tender embracings--Bessie went to her father and apprised him, melodramatically, of her determination. "You wouldn't marry without my consent?" was the obstinate old captain's question, after a little consideration. They were absurdly happy, these two determined persons. Bessie was the apple of his eye, the pride of his heart; she had not a wish, except the wish matrimonial, that he would not have made any sacrifice to satisfy. "You wouldn't marry without my consent, my pretty?" he repeated anxiously, for she did not answer his question immediately. "I won't, on one condition," replied Bessie categorically; "and that is, that you won't ask me or wish me, or try to persuade me to marry anybody but John Liddle; for I love him with all my heart, and I wouldn't give him up--no, not to be made Lord High Admiral." "I give you my promise, my pretty," said Capt. Prue, secretly admiring his daughter's determination, and loving her the more for it; "I'll never ask you, nor wish you, nor try to persuade you to marry anybody but John Liddle."