clared. "Let us be thankful the pitcher wasn't broken, or, in other words, that we are not at this moment at the bottom of the Pacific."
"Right you are," replied Sam.
There was an old piano on board, and the boys and girls often amused themselves at this, singing and playing. As there were no other passengers, they had the freedom of the ship.
"This would be real jolly," said Tom, "if it wasn't that the folks at home must be worried," and then he began to sing, for he really could not be sad:
"A life on the ocean wave,
A home on the rolling deep,
A house in a watery cave—
Where I might rest in sleep!"
"Did you ever hear such a song?" cried Nellie, and Tom went on:
"The boy stood on the burning deck,
Munching apples by the peck;
The captain yelled, he stood stock-still,
For of those apples he wanted his fill!"
"Tom Rover!" burst out Dora. "I believe you would sing at your own funeral!" And Tom continued gayly:
"Sailing, sailing, over the bounding main,
For many a stormy wind shall blow,
Ere the Rovers get home again!"
