The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. I think I know where I am puzzling you now——” “Then for Heaven’s sake be merciful,” he exclaimed. —I'll give him the edication of a prig,—teach him the use of his forks betimes,—and make him, in the end, as clever a cracksman as his father. He was alert, well-groomed, and yet—perhaps in contrast with the more volatile French type—there was a suggestion of weight about him, not to say heaviness. “I’ll ruin your suit. " "Twenty pounds," rejoined Mrs.
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