‘Und dese,’ said Peter Green, waving his hand toward his three mates, who stood near him, ‘vhas my goodt neighbours and friendts--Mr. Alexander Cotton, dot vhas long in your Royal Navy; Mr. Andrew Hagan, dot hails from Boston; and Mr. William Daly, dot vhas likewise of your navy.’ Each man, as his name was pronounced, saluted with a deep sea-bow. I regarded them earnestly; they were to be neighbours of mine soon. What was the colour of their wives, and how many children had they? ‘You’re in time for dinner,’ said Tom. ‘Step into the cabin, will you? Johnstone, my lad, give an eye to the brig whilst I entertain our friends here.’ We entered the deck-house in a body. ‘Bit short-handed, capt’n, ain’t ye?’ said old Cotton, gazing about him with slow motions of the head. ‘We’ll come to that soon,’ said Tom. ‘Friends, seat yourselves and fall to. Marian, there’s a chair for you next Peter Green. Bates, I’ll trouble you to uncork some of that wine on the swing trays.’ My presence seemed to embarrass the poor islanders; they did not speak whilst their plates were being heaped. They eyed me shyly and would not eat after they had been served. ‘This is good ham--this is middling beef, Mr. Green,’ said Tom. ‘It’s the best welcome our little ship will allow us to give you.’ Peter Green bowed his head with the courteous gesture of a fine old gentleman, and then, observing that everybody was served, he stood up and, with a countenance of great devotion, said grace. The others hung their heads in a posture of prayer. Mr. Bates was greatly impressed; Tom and I exchanged looks--I saw that he was well pleased that I should have witnessed so soon this little illustration of the islanders’ habits. Grace said, the three old fellows and the others ate heartily, and conversation then flowed. ‘How is Corporal Glass?’ asked Tom. ‘He vhas not very well to-day,’ answered Peter Green. ‘Dot cancer troubles him. But I tell him he vhas goodt for many years.’ ‘Please God!’ said William Daly. ‘Anything called off you lately?’ said Tom. ‘Nothing for five weeks,’ answered Hagan, with a nasal accent, ‘and she was a French whaler.’ ‘Got a clergyman yet?’ ‘Nein,’ answered Peter Green. ‘Der governor wrote by a South-Seaman to der Bishop of Cape Town. Der vhas no reply yet.’ ‘Parsons ain’t penguins,’ said Cotton. ‘I tell ’ee, captain, the clergyman as comes to live amongst us ’ll be a-dedicating of his life to his Maker, arter a fashion you may overhaul the lot of your parishes at home afore finding the like of.’ ‘Are there many young children among you, Mr. Green?’ said I. ‘Why, yaw, considering, marm. Dere vhas t’ree generations of us;’ and he named the number of children. ‘Don’t time hang a little heavily with you?’ said Mr. Bates.