"Well, Bill, that's true, and I would rather not hear you speak at all than hear you speak like the other men; but I don't swear, Bill, so you might talk to me sometimes, I think. Besides, I'm weary of spending day after day in this way, without a single soul to say a pleasant word to. I've been used to friendly conversation, Bill, and I really would take it kind if you would talk with me a little now and then."
Bill looked at me in surprise, and I thought I observed a sad expression pass across his sunburnt face.
"An' where have you been used to friendly conversation," said Bill, looking down again into the sea; "not on that Coral Island, I take it?"
"Yes, indeed," said I energetically; "I have spent many of the happiest months in my life on that Coral Island;" and without waiting to be further questioned, I launched out into a glowing account of the happy life that Jack and Peterkin and I had spent together, and related minutely every circumstance that befell us while on the island.
"Boy, boy," said Bill, in a voice so deep that it startled me, "this is no place for you."
"That's true," said I; "I'm of little use on board, and I don't like my comrades; but I can't help it, and at any rate I hope to be free again soon."
"Free?" said Bill, looking at me in surprise.
"Yes, free," returned I; "the captain said he would put me ashore after this trip was over."
"This trip! Hark'ee, boy," said Bill, lowering his voice, "what said the captain to you the day you came aboard?"
"He said that he was a trader in sandal-wood and no pirate, and told me that if I would join him for this trip
