"A bath! Right ye are. I knew ye was a toff the minute I clapped my blinkers on ye."
In ten minutes my talkative friend announced that my bath was in readiness. For ten minutes more he rattled on to me at intervals, through the bathroom door, poking into my past and arranging my future like a clairvoyant.
Notwithstanding, he had a nice, steaming-hot supper waiting for me when I returned to my stateroom.
As I fell-to, he stood by, enjoying the relish I displayed in the appeasing of my hunger.
"If I was a young fellow av your age, strong build and qualities, do ye know where I would make for?" he ventured.
"Where?" I asked, uninterestedly.
He lowered his eyebrows. "Out West,—Canada," he said, with a decided nod of his head. "And, the farther west the better. The Pacific Coast has a climate like home, only better. For the main part, ye're away from the long winters;—it's a new country;—a young man's country:—it's wild and free:—and,—it's about as far away as ye can get from—from,—the trouble ye're leavin' behind."
I looked across at him.
"Oh! bhoy,—I've been there. I know what I'm talkin' about."
He sighed. "But I'm gettin' old and I've been too long on the sea to give it up."