He reminds me of a slave I once had in Rome with those sullen dark eyes and that wistful pout. Sheppard, if you please, Ma'am," interrupted the lad; "I allow nobody to call me Jack. "No," replied Jack. Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. So, instead, they talked of dancing and what it might mean in a human life. Mr.
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