The vicar Was in the midet of

ship.

none of us had

writing when I went in.

Whatever grief one feels, one must work all the same.

AI of a sudden I felt myself tapped on the shoulder.

What would you do if you had not enough to live upon ?

My friend was so changed that I could scarcely recognise him.

We had worked side by side for a whole week.

How much the poor widow would suffer, when her son left her all alone !

As I was going down in my turn, if actually he did not look at me with a sneer !

Neither he nor I are good sailors,

It seems that the old man sudde»ly fell stone-dead,

Those are the only happy days we ever had,

What is singular is that no one knew it.

The prist kept the jewel, but put the price or thereabouts in the poor-box,