“’Ere—’old ’ard, guv’nor—’old ’ard,” exclaimed the Captain. “This comes of gettin’ into bad company; I’m surprised at a man of your hage, usin’ all them naughty words; w’erever did yer learn ’em, mess-mate? It wasn’t my fault, Mister; the steps was a slide—an’ these ’ere stones is all bumps; an’ w’en a man comes from a slide to bumps—sudden-like—I puts it to you that ’e ain’t responsible for ’isself. An’ I ’umbly asks yer pardon.” The little man, appearing somewhat appeased, sat down on his post again, and meditatively pulled at his whiskers—glancing round now and then at the Captain, as though apprehensive of his indulging in some other gymnastic performance. The Captain, for his part, being of a peaceful nature, began to make, overtures of friendliness—the more so that he had a dim notion in his brain that he had seen the little man on a previous occasion. However, as the little man remained obstinately silent, despite all the Captain’s conversational overtures, that gentleman turned his attention to the boats, several of which were moored near at hand, with a man sitting near by, smoking, and keeping an eye upon them. This man, as a familiar spirit, the Captain accosted. “Nice boats you’ve got ’ere,” said the Captain, casually. “Ah”—responded the man, looking the Captain up and down—“the boats is all right.” By which he seemed to imply that somebody else was not. “I suppose a man might ’ire a boat—eh?” was the Captain’s next enquiry. “Do you fink they’re on this ’ere river for the kids to look at—or to pervide me with amoosement in bailin’ of ’em out?” asked the man, indignantly. The Captain, meekly repudiating the idea that any such thought was in his mind, carried his enquiry a little further, by asking if he might “’ire one for a hour or so.” “Can yer row?” asked the man, after a pause. “Can I what?” shouted the Captain. The man coolly repeated his question, and went on placidly smoking. The Captain, when he had recovered his breath, spoke with an unnatural calmness. “P’raps, my man, you takes me for a omnibus conductor,” he said. “Bring round one of them boats, an’ steady ’er w’ile I gits in—will yer?” The man, seeing that the Captain really meant business, knocked the ashes out of his pipe, got into one of the boats, and slowly pushed it from where it was moored until it bumped against the causeway. The Captain, in his delight at the prospect of being once more afloat, suddenly remembered the little man with the faded whiskers, who had sat all this time, absolutely unmoved, on his post. “’Ere—mess-mate—let bygorns be bygorns—an’ come an’ ’ave a blow.” He clutched the little man by the arm, in a jocular fashion, and made as if to pull him towards the boat.