"I mind it, Captain—I mind it well. And what a trouble there was with the owners when we got back again!"
"Yes, yes," the Captain said; "it was worse work than having a brush with a Barbary corsair. I shall never forget that day. When I went to the office to report, the three owners were all in.
"'Well, Captain Dave, back from your voyage?' said the littlest of the three. 'Made a good voyage, I hope?'
"First-rate, says I, except that the supercargo got killed at Lemnos by one of them rascally Greeks.
"'Dear, dear,' said another of them—he was a prim, sanctimonious sort—'Has our brother Jenkins left us?'
"I don't know about his leaving us, says I, but we left him sure enough in a burying-place there.
"'And how did you manage without him?'
"I made as good a shift as I could, I said. I have sold all the cargo, and I have brought back a freight of six tons of Turkey figs, and four hundred boxes of currants. And these two bags hold the difference.
"'Have you brought the books with you, Captain?'
"Never a book, said I. I have had to navigate the ship and to look after the crew, and do the best I could at each port. The books are on board, made out up to the day before the supercargo was killed, three months ago; but I have never had time to make an entry since.