Emma bade him adieu, and they separated, and Joey remained and watched her till she disappeared under the porch of the entrance.

Our hero returned towards Gravesend in rather a melancholy mood; there was something so unusual in his meeting with the little girl--something so uncommon in the sympathy expressed by her--that he felt pain at parting. But it was getting late, and it was time that he kept his appointment with his friend, the sailor boy.

Joey remained at the door of the eating-house for about a quarter of an hour, when he perceived the sailor lad coming up the street. He went forward to meet him.

"Oh, here we are. Well, young fellow, I've seen the old woman, and had a long talk with her, and she won't believe there can be another in the world like her Peter, but I persuaded her to have a look at you, and she has consented; so come along, for I must be on board again in half an hour."

Joey followed his new friend down the street, until they came to the very door to which he had carried the bundle. The sailor boy mounted the stairs, and turning into the room at the first landing, Joey beheld the woman whom he had a.s.sisted in the morning.

"Here he is, Mrs Chopper, and if he won't suit you, I don't know who will," said the boy. "He's a regular scholar, and can sum up like winkin'."

This character, given so gratuitously by his new acquaintance, made Joey stare, and the woman looked hard into Joey's face.

"Well, now," said she, "where have I seen you before? Dear me! and _he is_ like poor Peter, as you said, Jim; I vow he is."

"I saw you before to-day," replied Joey, "for I carried a bundle up for you."

"And so you did, and would have no money for your trouble. Well, Jim, he is like poor Peter."

"I told you so, old lady; ay, and he'll just do for you as well as Peter did; but I'll leave you to settle matters, for I must be a-board."

So saying, the lad tipped a wink to Joey, the meaning of which our hero did not understand, and went downstairs.

"Well, now, it's very odd; but do you know you are like poor Peter, and the more I look at you the more you are like him: poor Peter! did you hear how I lost him?"

"Yes, the sailor lad told me this morning."

"Poor fellow! he held on too fast; most people drown by not holding on fast enough: he was a good boy, and very smart indeed; and so it was you who helped me this morning when I missed poor Peter so much? Well, it showed you had a good heart, and I love that; and where did you meet with Jim Paterson?"

"I met him first in a slop-shop, as he calls it, when I was buying my clothes."

"Well, Jim's a wild one, but he has a good heart, and pays when he can.

I've been told by those who know his parents, that he will have property by-and-bye. Well, and what can you do? I am afraid you can't do all Peter did."

"I can keep your accounts, and I can be honest and true to you."

"Well, Peter could not do more: are you sure you can keep accounts, and sum up totals?"

"Yes, to be sure I can; try me."

"Well, then, I will: here is pen, ink, and paper. Well, you are the very image of Peter, and that's a fact. Now write down beer, 8 pence; tobacco, 4 pence; is that down?"

"Yes."

"Let me see: duck for trousers, 3 shillings, 6 pence; beer again, 4 pence; tobacco, 4 pence; is that down? Well, then, say beer again, 8 pence. Now sum that all up."

Joey was perfect master of the task, and, as he handed over the paper, announced the whole sum to amount to 5 shillings, 10 pence.

"Well," says Mrs Chopper, "it looks all right; but just stay here a minute while I go and speak to somebody." Mrs Chopper left the room, went downstairs, and took it to the bar-girl at the next public-house to ascertain if it was all correct.

"Yes, quite correct, Mrs Chopper," replied the la.s.s.

"And is it as good as Peter's was, poor fellow?"

"Much better," replied the girl.

"Dear me! Who would have thought it? and so like Peter too!"

Mrs Chopper came upstairs again, and took her seat--"Well," said she, "and now what is your name?"

"Joey."

"Joey what?"

"Joey--O'Donahue," replied our hero, for he was fearful of giving the name of McShane.

"And who are your parents?"

"They are poor people," replied Joey, "and live a long way off."

"And why did you leave them?"

Joey had already made up his mind to tell his former story; "I left there because I was accused of poaching, and they wished me to go away."

"Poaching; yes, I understand that--killing hares and birds. Well, but why did you poach?"

"Because father did."

"Oh, well, I see; then, if you only did what your father did we must not blame his child; and so you come down here to go to sea?"

"If I could not do better."

"But you shall do better, my good boy. I will try you instead of poor Peter, and if you are an honest and good, careful boy, it will be much better than going to sea. Dear me! how like he is,--but now I _must_ call you Peter; it will make me think I have him with me, poor fellow!"

"If you please," said Joey, who was not sorry to exchange his name.

"Well, then, where do you sleep to-night?"

"I did intend to ask for a bed at the house where I left my bundle."

"Then, don't do so; go for your bundle, and you shall sleep in Peter's bed (poor fellow, his last was a watery bed, as the papers say), and then to-morrow morning you can go off with me."

Joey accepted the offer, went back for his bundle, and returned to Mrs Chopper in a quarter of an hour; she was then preparing her supper, which Joey was not sorry to partake of; after which she led him into a small room, in which was a small bed without curtains; the room itself was hung round with strings of onions, papers of sweet herbs, and flitches of bacon; the floor was strewed with empty ginger-beer bottles, oak.u.m in bags, and many other articles. Altogether, the smell was anything but agreeable.

"Here is poor Peter's bed," said Mrs Chopper; "I changed his sheets the night before he was drowned, poor fellow! Can I trust you to put the candle out?"

"Oh, yes; I'll be very careful."

"Then, good night, boy. Do you ever say your prayers? poor Peter always did."