Alick had held all sorts of good situations, and wasted many opportunities in life. I have heard him end a story with these words: “That was in my golden days, when I used finger-glasses.” Situation after situation failed him; then followed the depression of trade, and for months he had hung round with other idlers, playing marbles all day in the West Park, and going home at night to tell his landlady how he had been seeking for a job. I believe this kind of existence was not unpleasant to Alick himself, and he might have long continued to enjoy idleness and a life on tick; but he had a comrade, let us call him Brown, who grew restive. This fellow was continually threatening to slip his cable for the States, and at last, one Wednesday, Glasgow was left widowed of her Brown. Some months afterwards, Alick met another old chum in Sauchiehall Street.

“By the by, Alick,” said he, “I met a gentleman in New York who was asking for you.”

“Who was that?” asked Alick.

“The new second engineer on board the So-and-so,” was the reply.