You'd better come with us now, for I'm hanged if I give you the chance again." "No, cap'en," grinned the imperturbable Chinaman, "no can do." So, amidst the chaff of the men, who asserted that Ching Wang must have about fifty wives by this time at various ports, considering the number of times he had contracted matrimonial engagements, he went over the side into a sampan he had waiting for him, smiling blandly to the last, and giving me as a parting present the little brass figure of Buddha which he worshipped as his deity.

This was a sure token of the strong affection he entertained for me, his "lilly pijjin," as he always called me from the time that Tim Rooney had commended me to his good graces.
"He'll come back with us next trip," said Mr Mackay, as he with all of us gave Ching Wang a parting "chin chin" on the celestial cook being presently rowed ashore in great state, sitting in the stern-sheets of his sampan and beaming on us with his bland smile as long as his round face could be distinguished, dwindling away in the distance till it finally disappeared.

"I'm sorry to lose him, though, sir, for he was a capital cook, besides being a plucky fellow.

Recollect how he helped to save all our lives the other day, as well as the ship and cargo." "Humph!" grunted "Old Jock," who appeared to have forgotten this.

"He's served us a shabby trick now, by going off like that at the last moment, and I've half a mind not to have any truck with him again." "Ha, ha, cap'en," laughed Mr Mackay, "you said so last time, don't you remember?
Yet, you brought him aboard again with the other hands before we started from Gravesend this trip.