from Plymouth—a naturalist there, asking for more birds; and what can I do? I slave, I am at it all day, half the night; I have no time to eat or sleep. I was not born to stuff birds. I take it as an amusement, a pastime, and it is converted into a toil. I must brace up my exhausted frame; it is necessary to my health, you understand?"
"Oh, yes, Mr. Menaida. And you really will humor my childish whim?"
"Certainly, you may rely on me."
"That is one thing I wanted to say. Yon see, sir, we have but just come into your house, and already, last night, Jamie was tempted to disobey me, and take what I thought unadvisable, so—I have been turning it over and over in my head—I thought I would like to come to a clear understanding with you, Mr. Menaida. It seems ungracious in me, but you must pity me. I have now all responsibility for Jamie on my head, and I have to do what my conscience tells me I should do; only, I pray you, do not take offence at what I have said."
"Fudge! my dear; you are right, I dare say."
"And now that I have your promise—I have that, have I not?"
"Yes, certainly."
"Now I want your opinion, if you will kindly give it me. I have no father, no mother, to go to for advice; and so I venture to appeal to you—it is about Captain Coppinger."
"Captain Coppinger!" repeated Uncle Zachie, screwing up his brows and mouth. "Umph! He is a bold man who can give help against Captain Coppinger, and a strong man as well as bold. How has he wronged you?"
"Oh! he has not wronged me. It is I who have hurt him."
"You—you?" Uncle Zachie laughed. "A little creature such as you could not hurt Captain Cruel!"
"But, indeed, I have; I have thrown him down and broken his arms and some of his bones."
"You!" Uncle Zachie's face of astonishment and dismay was so comical that Judith, in spite of her anxiety and exhaustion, smiled; but the smile was without brightness.
"And pray, how in the name of wonder did you do
