"Oh, it's nothing," he said. "Harry, my steward, thought he would make a spread, I suppose, because I told him I felt hungry just now. It is only our ordinary fare, though; for, when we're in harbour like this now and have the chance of getting fresh grub, we always keep a good table. At sea, after a spell, we've got to rough it on salt junk frequently." "Not like what we poor fellows had to put up with in the service," observed dad, shrugging his shoulders with a grimace. "Ah, we in the mercantile marine know how to enjoy ourselves," said Captain Miles with a satisfactory chuckle. "You naval chaps are something like what the niggers say of white folks that have come down in the world out here, and try to keep up appearances without means. You have `poor greatness, with dry rations,' hey?" "That's true enough," replied dad; and then we all set to work with our knives and forks, demolishing, in less than no time, a grilled fowl and some delicious fried flying-fish, with the accompaniment of roast buttered yams and fresh plantains. I don't know when I ever had such a jolly tuck out. The long ride after my forced quietness at home, and the sea air, combined with my novel surroundings--I was so overjoyed at being on board a ship, and having a meal in a real cabin, the very height of my ambition and what I had often longed for--gave me a tremendous appetite. It was the first really hearty meal I had eaten since my illness. "Well, Eastman," said Captain Miles presently to dad, "I suppose you've come about the youngster. Do you want me to take him home with me this voyage, eh?" Of course I pricked up my ears on hearing this question; but dad did not satisfy my curiosity, although he noticed that I almost jumped up in my seat and was all attention. "No," replied he, evading the subject, "I wanted to see you about shipping some cocoa. I've got a good lot ready, and you may as well take it as anybody else." "Oh, I see," rejoined the captain, winking in a confidential way at dad, as if they had some secret between them. "We can talk over the bills of lading and so on, while the youngster has a run round to see what a ship is like, eh?" "Yes," said dad; and turning to me he added, "You would like to go over the _Josephine_, would you not, Tom, now you are on board her?" "Rather!" I replied, delighted at the idea, but still wondering what the captain had meant about "taking me home." There was evidently something on the tapis. "All right, my hearty, so you shall," said Captain Miles. "The boatswain will take you round and show you the ropes, while your father and I have a chat about business matters." He then called Harry the steward, and directed him to give me in charge of Moggridge the boatswain, with instructions to show me everything that was to be seen alow and aloft in the vessel; whereupon the two of us went out of the cabin together, leaving the captain and dad to have an uninterrupted chat over their cigars.