But John Selwyn was a fine, handsome young fellow.

He boarded at my father's, and he and me were cronies, though he was ten years older'n me.

We read and walked and talked a heap together.

He knew about all the poetry that was ever written, I reckon, and he used to quote it to me along shore in the evenings.

Dad thought it an awful waste of time, but he sorter endured it, hoping it'd put me off the notion of going to sea.