"Oh!" said Hal, "you won't chew tobacco?"
"Sailors always do. But ten dollars a month is better than eight, and my board thrown in. I'm going, Granny."
Granny sighed. It was useless to endeavor to talk Joe out of his project; and so she might as well keep silence.
Capt. Burton came the next morning. He had taken a wonderful fancy to Joe, and was very anxious to engage him.
"He's just the kind of lad that I need," exclaimed the captain. "I want some one who is handy, and quick in figgers; who can keep my accounts for me, as my eyes are getting rather poor; and do arrants; and I've taken a 'mazing liking to him. I'll keep a good watch over him; and he can come home once in a while."
"How far do you go?" asked Granny.
"To Albany, mostly. Now and then I take a trip around Long Island, or up the Sound. Your boy has taken a 'mazing fancy to the sea; and he will never be satisfied until he's had a taste of salt water, in my 'pinion."
"No, that I won't!" declared Joe stoutly.
"We haul off in the winter 'bout three months; which'll give him a holiday. Sence he hankers after it so, you better consent, I think. Cousin Terry will tell you that I ain't a hard master."
What could Granny say? Nothing but cry a little, look up Joe's clothes, and kiss him a hundred times, or more, after the fashion of Mrs. Malloy and her dear Pat. Joe was so delighted, that he could hardly "hold in his skin," as he said to Kit, who sagely advised him not to get into a cast-iron sweat,—Kit's chronic fear on remarkable occasions.