In the Yellow Sea. Frith Henry

Kong and Canton, and, further, I don't keep any idlers on board. If ye go with me ye must look lively. Yer mate, Tim, yonder, is already worth his salt. He tells me ye're a cadet."

      "I wanted to be; my eyes were wrong, the doctor said."

      "Then ye're fond of the sea? Now, here's my idea: I'll keep ye, if ye like, aboard, and, please Goodness, bring ye home. If not, ye must telegraph home from Gib, and I must send ye back in some liner, somehow. Make up yer mind, it can't take long."

      "I suppose you think me a fool?" I exclaimed testily.

      "I do not," he replied, with the emphasis of the native Irishman; "but maybe I will when I hear yer opinion."

      "Then, I'll stay," I replied, feeling rather undecided nevertheless. "But what will they think at home? My mother will fret."

      "Well, I'm sorry for yer mother, but I think she'll survive. I know something about ye from the boy forward. Now, tell me the truth about yerself. Who are ye, anyhow?"

      I told him the truth. He listened quietly, nodding at intervals, and finally said —

      "All right. Now, my lad, listen to me. I'll be the making of ye, and yer mother won't know ye when ye go back, eh?"

      I hardly fancied that this would be an advantage for my parents, but I said nothing, and the captain continued —

      "I'll make a man of ye, so I will. I'll just wire to yer daddy, and tell him I've got ye safe and sound, and will bring ye back. I'll clothe and feed ye and teach ye something, and maybe ye'll come back a second mate for the Company – the Shanghai and Hong Kong Tea Company."

      "Thanks," I said briefly, rising as I spoke.

      "Hold on a minute, there's one lesson first. When ye speak to the captain, say sir; d'ye mind?"

      "Yes, sir," I replied, blushing furiously as I stood before the master.

      "Very well, that's the first thing. Now, what can ye do? Can ye hand, reef, or steer? Speak up!"

      "I can't furl a sail, sir. I can reef a fore and aft sail, and can steer a little."

      "Very well. Look here, now, I'll keep ye, and put ye under my man; he'll trim ye a bit, and Mr. Rose, the mate, will set yer lessons. By the time we reach the China Sea I expect ye'll know the ropes. Ye must work for your living here, – no skulking, now!"

      "No, sir," I answered respectfully.

      "That'll do; I'll take the responsibility of ye, and bedad ye'll have to mind me! But I understand ye are a gentleman; so'm I, and ye'll be taken care of. Ye'll be a man before your mother yet."

      This I believed highly probable, and nearly said so, but the looks of the captain deterred me. He proceeded —

      "Just keep quiet till we make Gib; then I'll see ye fix'd up, and put to work. My steward will berth ye and feed ye. Ye needn't go amongst the crew, mind; and needn't keep watch – unless ye like – at first. Now, are ye satisfied?"

      "Yes, sir, I am; and am very grateful to you for all your kindness."

      "That's bully, now," he exclaimed. "Here's my hand on the bargain. Ye'll do, when ye get the starch out of yer collar. We don't want any airs here, mind ye. What's yer name? Jule, is it? – what?"

      "Julius, sir," I replied, feeling terribly small.

      "Julius Cæsar? No, it can't be that, I suppose. Never mind, we'll call ye Julius until ye become a mate. In my country they'd say if ye wasn't the mate ye'd be the boy to serve it! D'ye mind that? Come up now, and get a breath of the wind, young Cæsar."

      I laughed, and thus I became a sailor. But how different was the introduction from that I had anticipated! I was rigged out as a cabin-boy in the steamer, and carried away to the Far East, instead of being trained on the Britannia and serving in a man-of-war. Many a night I lay half-crying in my bunk, thinking of the change in my prospects, but the days passed quickly, letters came from home, and I had plenty of money afterwards, but the first step counted very much in my career, and I grew fast at sea. I said so once to the captain.

      "Mind ye don't grow fast ashore," he said. "Cut yer wisdom teeth first here."

      I could not get much "change" out of the skipper.

      But I am anticipating. I was still a cabin lad, and under orders. I was taught many things, such as knots and splices, heaving the lead, the names of the ropes, and was sent aloft when I had become accustomed to the vessel. We didn't sail much, but at times we hoisted a topsail, jib, and spencer (or mainsail) when the wind was on the quarter, and time was pressing. We steamed through the Mediterranean, and had I time I could tell you my experiences and pleasure in seeing the places which as a lad I had read about.

      What lad of fifteen would not have been delighted, as I was, by seeing Capes St. Vincent and Trafalgar? The steward, the captain's man, my chief, so to say, told me many anecdotes about them, and the battles, the prizes, Nelson, and other heroes. Gibraltar, Naples, Malta, the canal, where we saw mirages in the sand, Suez, the Red Sea, Colombo, and away to Hong Kong, whence we proceeded to Canton. All these experiences were delightful. I almost forgot home in the new and charming scenes of the East, though I found some drawbacks in the Chinese people and the climate.

      We voyaged and traded between India and China for eighteen months, until I became, as the captain had declared, a mate under him, and though acting, I could act fairly well! I was then a grown lad, nearly seventeen, and full of energy.

      We were at Hong Kong in the year 1894, a place I always liked, and the first visit to Victoria I never shall forget. It was in the end of the year after leaving home. Hong Kong in my mind had been always associated with a song which we used to sing in the bedroom at my first school about a "gay cavalier" who, having been disappointed by the lady he loved, declared, lyrically, that she "might go to Hong Kong" for him! This fine and interesting ditty, as we then thought it, came into my head that day when the Fêng Shui steamed into the harbour.

      What a beautiful scene! Perhaps you think that because I am young and (a little) verdant I exaggerate the beauties of the panorama. Well, ask your friends. Let them tell you of the blue sky and sea, with the numerous vessels sailing and at anchor, the men-of-war with flags and pennants of all nations, the sampans, the junks, the hundreds of strange rigs and faces (and languages as of Babel all around you) floating on the beautiful water, from behind which rises "the Peak," the highest point of the mountain chain which dominates the town of Victoria, which is built along the slopes.

      And, indeed, upon a steep slope it rests, in an apparently insecure basis, inasmuch as the houses appear to be tending to the sea, as if thrust by those behind; so that one almost expects, when one returns after an absence, to find a row missing, and the larger houses lower down on the hill. Above them are the woods or thickets of the mountains, and, at times, the low clouds upon the Peak. Opposite is China, bare and rugged.

      When you land in Hong Kong – at least this was my youthful experience – you are inundated by coolies who will carry your baggage, for a few cask, upon a bamboo pole, resting upon the shoulders of two "porters." A single porter may be employed, but in this case your (light) load will be balanced by him at the end of the pole and sustained by a weight at the other, in the weighing-machine method. These fellows trot up the hills with the burden which sways upon the pole, and though you may wonder why the man does not walk quietly, you will soon discover that the flexible bamboo is most easily borne at a jogtrot when laden, because it adapts itself to the pace, or the pace to it, as it swings. Try it, my young friends, and you will agree with me that a swinging trot is the easiest mode of progression under the circumstances.

      "Cash" in Hong Kong, and in China generally, is of course in signification the same as in Europe, but in China it is specific, definite. The cash is a bronze coin, in value about the tenth of a penny, with a square hole punched in it, so that the purse-bearer can string hundreds of them over his shoulder like a bandolier of cartridges. The cash is usually slipped upon a cord, knotted in the centre, and the money passed on over both ends. When a hundred cash has been strung on each end a knot is tied, and two other hundreds are added as before, up to usually one thousand cash, which then represent a dollar. Three shillings and ninepence at most,