purchase under his arm, looking very earnestly at some prints in a shop window. Joey ranged up alongside of him, and inquired of him where he could get something to eat; the lad turned round, stared, and, after a little while, cried, "Well, now, you're the young gentleman chap that came into the shop; I say aren't you after a rig, eh? Given them leg bail, I'll swear. No consarn of mine, old fellow. Come along, I'll show you." Joey walked by his new acquaintance a few yards, when the lad turned to him, "I say, did your master whop you much?" "No," replied Joey. "Well, then, that's more than I can say of mine, for he was at it all day. Hold out your right hand, now your left," continued he, mimicking; "my eyes! how it used to sting. I don't think I should mind it much now, continued the lad, turning up his hand; it's a little harder than it was then. Here's the shop, come in; if you haven't no money I'll give you a breakfast." The lad took his seat on one side of a narrow table, Joey on the other, and his new acquaintance called for two pints of tea, a twopenny loaf, and two penny bits of cheese. The loaf was divided between them, and with their portion of cheese and pint of tea each they made a good breakfast. As soon as it was over, the young sailor said to Joey, "Now, what are you going arter; do you mean to ship?" "I want employment," replied Joey; "and I don't much care what it is." "Well, then, look you; I ran away from my friends and went to sea, and do you know I've only repented of it once, and that's ever since. Better do anything than go to sea--winter coming on and all; besides, you don't look strong enough; you don't know what it is to be coasting in winter time; thrashed up to furl the top-gallant sail when it is so dark you can't see your way, and so cold that you can't feel your fingers, holding on for your life, and feeling as if life, after all, was not worth caring for; cold and misery aloft, kicks and thumps below. Don't you go to sea; if you do, after what I've told you, why then you're a greater fool than you look to be." "I don't want to be a sailor," replied Joey, "but I must do something to get my living. You are very kind: will you tell me what to do?" "Why, do you know, when I saw you come up to me, when I was looking at the pictures, in your frock and trousers, you put me in mind, because you are so much like him, of a poor little boy who was drowned the other day alongside of an India ship; that's why I stared, for I thought you were he, at first." "How was he drowned, poor fellow?" responded Joey. "Why, you see, his aunt is a good old soul, who keeps a bumboat, and goes off to the shipping." "What's a bumboat?" "A boat full of soft tommy, soldiers, pipes, and backey, rotten apples, stale pies, needles and threads, and a hundred other things; besides a fat old woman sitting in the stern sheets."