The gale was over in a couple of days, and he appeared again, serene and smiling, having found his sea legs, as his friend, Wild Charley, expressed it. The boatswain's pipes whistled cheerily at this moment. Some sailors were climbing up the shrouds. "Anything I can do, sir?" inquired Tommy. "Go aloft and help set that sail," was the reply. Though he had never been in the rigging before, Tommy was too proud to refuse to comply with this command. Accordingly he shinned up the shrouds, but hadn't gone far before he lost his hold and fell in a lump to the deck. He would have seriously injured himself had not the officer been standing directly under him. Tommy fell upon the officer's broad back, bringing him with a thud to the deck. He jumped up unhurt, but the officer was much bruised and shaken. "Deuce take you for a fool!" he cried. "Anything else I can do, sir?" asked Tommy. The officer rose and picked up a belaying pin. "If you don't make yourself scarce," he replied, "I'll pound you into a jelly." Tommy disappeared below, but the men had seen the fall and heard Tommy's remark of "anything else I can do, sir?" which became quite a word in the forecastle during the remainder of the voyage. During the rest of the morning he was sent by the steward to wait upon the cabin passengers, and answer the smoking-room bell. The ladies kept him busy carrying up wraps and chairs, as it was fine on deck, and the gentlemen occupied his time in orders for Bass' ale and cigars. Mrs. Nathan S. Stocker, of Chicago, had a mortal aversion to a dog, and a maiden lady named Jones had a Scotch terrier which she insisted upon giving all the privileges of the saloon. The two ladies entered the saloon together as Tommy was dusting the piano. Miss Jones' dog ran up and pawed her. "Boy!" exclaimed Mrs. Stocker, "remove this animal." "Yes, ma'am." "Touch him if you dare! Dogs have as much right here as children," replied Miss Jones. "That remark does not apply to me, as I have left all my precious ones at home; but I will maintain that the butcher's shop is the place for dogs. Boy, go to the purser, and say that I wish this brute taken away." "Certainly, ma'am," answered Tommy. The ladies glared at one another, and Tommy sought the purser, who was in his cabin. "Well, what do you want?" he asked. "Say, sir, what am I to do with Miss Jones' dog? Mrs. Stocker says----" "Oh! hang the dog!" replied the purser, impatiently. "I've heard all that before. I can't be bothered." Tommy entered the saloon again with a piece of rope. "What does he say?" asked Mrs. Stocker, eagerly. "The dog's to be hanged, ma'am." "What!" cried Miss Jones, "hang my Fido!" "I always said the purser was a gentleman," remarked Mrs. Stocker, smiling triumphantly. "I will appeal to the captain!" exclaimed Miss Jones. "Touch Fido, if you dare, till I return." She rushed away, and Tommy stood, irresolute how to act.