"I tell you what it is," said he, as we walked forward together to have a chat, "I've been second mate of a ship a long time, but I never had a man treat me so like a dog as Capt. Streeter's done since we've been in port. He wanted the ship scrubbed around outside as soon as the copper got out of water; and a man offered to do it, and paint her beside, for ten dollars, when the regular price that other ships pay is twenty dollars. But the old man kicked up 'Bob's a dying,' and swore he wouldn't pay no such price; and then he gave me so many hints, and told me so many stories about what that cursed Mr. Jones of his used to do in port, that at last I offered to do it myself. So he hired a raft, and a boy to help me, and then I scrubbed the ship and painted her bends all round. I thought that would satisfy him, but as long as I had got my hand into dirty work, he thought he wouldn't let me take it out, and he had the face to tell me to go over the bow and coal-tar the bob-stays, and all the rest of the iron-work. I was just fool enough to do it, and he's kept me going ever since at jobs that any decent captain would hire a man to do; but it's about played out now. He's so mean he'd skin a louse for its hide and tallow; and his soul is so small you could punch the pith out of a horse-hair and put his soul inside, and then it would rattle if you shook it." I did not try to soothe him very much, and rather hoped he wouldn't be soothed; for the prospect of his leaving the ship, which was suggested by the tenor of his remarks, was not at all unpleasant to me. The next morning Mr. Howard had a talk with the captain in the cabin after breakfast, and then came out on deck to where I was standing and said: "Mr. A----, I'm going to leave the ship." "Are you?" said I, greatly astonished but equally pleased. "What is that for?"