They were very fond of each other, these two lads, and it was the earnest desire of both that they should not be parted.
Well, all the stories they read were of the "ocean wild and wide", and all the poetry they loved had the sound of the sea in it.
Such poetry and such tales Duncan would often read to his brother and winsome wee Florie sitting high on a hilltop, perhaps, on some fine summer's day with the great Atlantic spreading away and away from the shore beneath them to the distant horizon.
Dibdin's splendid and racy songs, redolent as they are of the brine and the breeze, were great favourites.
But I do think there is a thread of romance in the life of every sailor. Nay, more, I believe that it is this very romance that first induces young fellows to tempt the billows, although they are but little likely to find a life on the ocean wave quite all that their fancy painted. Talking personally, I am of opinion that it was Tom Cringle's Log that first gave me an idea of going to sea. Well, I do not regret it.
Byron's Corsair was a great favourite with the boys. Indeed, I rather think that they both would have liked to become corsairs or dashing pirates. And little Flora would gladly have gone with them.
"Heigho!" she sighed one day when Duncan had closed the book. "Heigho! I wish I had been a boy. I think it was very foolish of the Good Man to make me a girl, when he knew well enough I wanted to be a boy."
The poor child did not know how irreverent was such talk.
Honest Vike used to lie by Duncan's side while he was reading, with one huge heavy paw placed over the boy's knee.
But it must have been monotonous for him; and often his head fell on the extended foot, and he went off to sleep outright.