and I lived with my mother until I was thirteen years old, when she was killed in a railroad accident, and then I was turned over to my uncle, Job Dowling, my mother's half-brother. He was a very queer man,—the neighbors called him a crank,—and he was so miserly that living with him was entirely out of the question."
"So you cut sticks, to use another of your sailor sayings."
"Yes, I cut sticks, and so did my two brothers, Ben and Walter. None of us could stand his—his infernal meanness—I can't find any other word to describe it. We had money coming to us, but he didn't half clothe us, nor feed us; and whenever the least thing went wrong he had his cane ready, and would strike at one or the other with all his might. Once he hit Ben in the arm and nearly broke it. But I went for him then, and threw him down, and Ben got away. That capped the climax, and he was in for having us all arrested, but before he could do it, Ben and Walter ran away, and I left about three months later."
"And where are your brothers?"
"I don't know exactly, excepting that Ben said he was going to try his luck in New York, and
