“But these happy days were soon to be ended. When I was between nine and ten years of age the small-pox came. Father got it first, and in his delirium jumped overboard and was drowned; mother had it at the same time, and she lay down in the sleeping-space amidships. She died there the next day, and I was alone and afraid in the sampan. However, I cooked some rice and dried fish, and the next day tried to get mother out of the hold and throw her overboard. But she’d got stiff by that time, and I couldn’t move her any way. For days I continued to cook rice and try to move mother, but it was no good. As I told you, I wasn’t yet ten years old, and couldn’t yet properly manage a sampan alone; so one day the police noticed something wrong with my boat and came alongside. Then they found an old woman dead in the hold and your humble servant, aged nine and a half, in command. Being unable to escape, I had to go along with the police; and I remained about two days with them when a Chinaman came to see me, said he was my uncle, my father’s brother, and that he would care for me as his own son. Myself and the sampan, which contained no inconsiderable quantity of dollars, were handed over to this man, and he conducted me to his establishment. I’m sorry to say that this uncle was a very bad man, very bad indeed; he treated me shamefully.” “You surprise me,” remarked the surgeon; “after the lovable description you have given of your father, it seems impossible that his brother should not have been possessed of ten thousand virtues.” The Chinaman took no notice of this remark but proceeded.