It was but a hundred yards to the sailor's cottage, which stood on the edge of the sharp rise, a short distance back from the river.
"Here, wife," he said as he entered, "I've got a new apprentice, and I expect he's pretty hungry; I am, I can tell you, and I hope tea's ready. His name's Bill, and he's going to stop here, tonight."
"Tea is quite ready, John, and there's plenty of mackerel. I thought you would not be getting them again, for a spell.
"Do you like fish?" she asked the boy.
"I don't know, ma'am--I never tasted them."
"Bless me!" the woman cried, in astonishment; "never tasted fish! To think, now!"
"I've been brought up in a workhouse," William said, coloring a little as he spoke, for he knew the prejudice against the House.
"Ah!" she said, "we have had a good many of that sort; and I can't say as I likes 'em, for the most part. But you haven't got the look about you. You don't seem that sort."
"I hope I shall turn out none the worse for it," the boy said; "at any rate, I'll do my best."
"And none can't do more," the good woman said, briskly. "I like your looks, Bill, and you've a nice way of talking. Well, we shall see."