"Is this the way you try to get even with me?" cried the angry man, slapping Tim first on one side of the head and then on the other with a force that made his teeth chatter. "What do you mean by such actions? Answer me—what do you mean?"
"I don't mean anything," said the boy, piteously. "I was comin' in all right, when the boat tipped up, an' I slid right along. I was seasick, an' I couldn't help it."
"Then I'll help it for you," roared the Captain, and he flogged Tim until he thought he had been punished enough to cure him.
It seemed to Tim as if either the flogging or the sickness would have been sufficient alone, but to have both filled his heart with all the sadness and grief it could well contain.
[to be continued.]
[THE LITTLE BOARDERS.]
BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.
"Clark," said Jim Ridgeway, "it's no use. We sha'n't board the Rip Van Winkle this morning."
"Why not?" exclaimed Barbie Kyle; but little Ben was reaching over too far after a stick in the water, and before she could pull him back a shrill, cracked voice came down from the bank above the beach: