mate of said schooner—at your service. Hungry?"
"That's funny," said Kirk; "the boat Ken gave me is called the Celestine. And she's a four-masted schooner. Where's Ken?"
"I'm sorry—I don't know. Hungry?"
"I think I am," said Kirk.
Certainly the mate of the Celestine had a most strong and comfortable arm wherewith to raise a person. He administered bread and hot condensed milk, and Kirk began to realize that he was very hungry indeed.
"Now you go to sleep," Mr. Martin advised, after his brief manner. "Warm, now?"
Yes, Kirk was quite warm and cozy, but very much bewildered, and desirous of asking a hundred questions. These the mate forbade.
"You go to sleep," he commanded.
"Then please sing another tune," Kirk said. "What was that you were playing on?"
"Violin," said Mr. Martin. "Fiddle. I was plunking it like a banjo. Now I'll play it, if you'll stop talking."
Kirk did, and the mate began to play. His music was untaught, and he himself had made up the strange airs he played. They sighed fit-
