The poverty that goes hand in hand with honesty may hold up its head before the Queen.


“Is there, for honest poverty,
That hangs his head, and a’ that?
The coward slave, we pass him by;
We dare be poor for a’ that!
For a’ that, and a’ that,
Our toils obscure, and a’ that;
The rank is but the guinea stamp,
The man’s the gowd for a’ that?”

So sang the immortal Robert Burns.

But could any boy, or girl either, be really poor who had so many friends in field and forest, and by the winding stream? No; and such a one as this, who has been in touch with nature in his or her early days, may grow up, grow old, but never forget the days of youth, and never, never lose faith in Heaven and a happy Beyond.

The cottage and the surrounding country, however, did not constitute all the children’s world. There was the ship—as I have said—the barge that went to sea, and in which they so often sailed.

For to them as yet the barge was a brig, and the canal the ocean wide and wild. Well, I might on second thoughts withdraw those “wee wordies,” wide and wild. The canal was not a very wide one, nor was it ever very wild, in summer time at all events.

Never mind, to the imagination of Ransey, Babs, and Bob, the Merry Maiden was—


“A gallant ship, with a crew as brave
As ever sailed the ocean wave.”

The crew of the Merry Maiden, I may tell you at once, was a very small one indeed, and consisted—all told, that is—of the captain himself, who was likewise cook, boatswain, and bedmaker all combined; one sturdy, great boy of sixteen, strong enough to lift almost any weight, Sammy by name, who was first lieutenant, supercargo, and chief engineer, and who often took his trick at the wheel—that is, he took the tiller and relieved his captain, or mounted Jim and relieved Ransey; Ransey himself, who was second engineer—Jim, the stout old bay nag, being the engine itself, the moving power when no fair wind was blowing; and Bob, whose station was at the bows, and his duty to keep a good look-out and hail those aft if any other ship hove in sight or danger was near.