“You speak Dutch also, perhaps?” asked the stranger.
“Slightly,” said Newman; “but I prefer German, though I am more fluent in French.”
“Ah, that is a tongue I am fond of,” remarked the gentleman. “But may I ask where you picked up your knowledge of languages?”
“In the world,” replied Newman, carelessly. “’Tis a large book, and its leaves are never closed.”
“I am afraid that you will think me impertinent if I continue to ask questions,” said the stranger; “but I shall be glad to know to what ship you belong?”
Newman told him.
“Ah, I know your captain—an honest man. I am under great obligations to him. Are many of his crew able to amuse themselves as you two appear to be doing?”
“Some have lately taken to drawing and singing, and a few who could not read when the voyage began are now apt scholars,” answered Newman, carelessly. “We have occasionally a good deal of spare time on board a whaler, though we often have to work hard enough.”
A little further conversation passed. “I must not longer detain you from your task,” said the gentleman. “I hope that we shall meet again.”
He bowed to Newman, and nodded good-naturedly to me. He saw that I was but a common sailor, at the same time that he evidently discerned the educated gentleman in my friend. When I speak of Newman as a gentleman, it must be understood that he was not particularly polished or refined in his manners or habits, though more so far than were those with whom he associated forward. His manners were too blunt and independent to be called polished, and he could rough it as well as any of us, eating the same coarse food and wearing the same rough clothes as we did, without inconvenience.