to either of us. Way enough, men; fend off, Jacques."

CHAPTER III.
THE BOYS CONSCIOUS OF HIGHER AIMS.

Those luxurious boys, not satisfied with eating soft bread, lolling in their new chairs, bathing and frisking in the blue waters of the Mediterranean, resolved to sleep in the Bird's Nest, as they had christened the structure in the tree. This was a plan of Ned, who proposed taking their beds up into the tree and sleeping there.

"Don't let us sleep on that old straw, but throw it away and get some fresh," said Walter; "though, upon second thoughts, I don't know where we should get it. These peasants only raise rye, and rye straw is too hard, only fit for stuffing horse collars. Let us get moss and beech leaves, Ned; the old leaves that have fallen off will be just the thing, only dry them."

"So we will."

"I'll tell you what I've been thinking of. Wonder I didn't think of it before."

"Let's hear."

"We've been here some time, little or nothing to do, and have not been fifty rods from the beach. Suppose before two days there should come a gale of wind, a real snorter, set the blockading fleet a flying, everything head over heels, and it is, up topgallant-mast, send up topgallant and royal yards, mast-head the topsail, man the windlass, up anchor and away for Marseilles. By and by we get home. Charlie Bell and Captain Rhines say (as I know they will), 'Well, boys, have you seen any place you like better than home? What kind of land is it? What crops do they grow? Did the people seem happy, and do they live any better or know any more than we do? Do they live by farming, fishing, lumbering, or manufacturing? Are they any better off since they killed their king and a good part of their aristocracy than they were before?' We should have to scratch our heads, and say, 'We don't know; had plenty of time, but didn't go anywhere.' 'What did you do with yourselves,' they will ask. 'We made a nest in the top of a tree, took our beds up, and slept there; made chairs, sat there, talked, and went a fishing.'"

"Don't say any more, Walter. I'm sure you've made it out bad enough."

"Then, perhaps, they would think, if they didn't say it, that it was rather small business for a mate of a vessel who wanted to be master, and a young fellow who wanted to be mate, and had run the broadside of a hundred gun ship, and been twice wounded, to be spending all their time building birds' nests: better leave that to the birds, and set about the business they were made for."

"Come, grandfather," replied Ned, patting Walter's cheek, "just leave that alone; this nest is not without its use. We must have some place for a lookout to watch the fleet: and, were it not for this, the captain would have to go the best part of a mile to a hill. These chairs are a real comfort to him, as well as to us. I'm sure it is our duty to do anything we can for him, who is so good to us, and puts us ahead. A fellow must have some fun to oil the wheels and make everything run smooth; besides, grandpa, you will be obliged to allow, that if I first thought of making the nest, you have put ten times the work in it I ever intended doing; and I'm sure the chairs were all your own getting up; and now you want to get moss to fill beds with."

"There, you've said enough, you little monkey."

"I think this nice warm climate, just like May, makes anybody feel lazy and shiftless. Only think, Wal, at home, now, they are all covered up in snow, icicles hanging from the cattle's noses, and big roaring fires in the houses; and here I saw yesterday, right on the side of that little knoll, strawberries in blossom."

"I guess you're right, Ned," said Walter, stretching himself; "and that is just as our Joe is always saying—the frost puts the grit in."

"I guess so, for there don't seem to be much grit in the folks here; it seems as though the women did half the work."

"Let us ask the captain, Ned, for liberty to go and take a look at the country; then we can get information, and something to fill our beds with, besides having a good time—pleasure and profit, youngster."

"Where shall we sleep; out doors?"

"Yes; take a blanket (the weather is warm), just to keep the dew off."

"And we can carry provisions?"

"Yes, and fireworks."

"I should like that; it would be something like what we were going to do at Pleasant Cove, when uncle Isaac was hurt. I never was in the woods; always have been either at school or at sea."

"I don't think you'll find much woods, I can't see from the tree any that I should call woods. There seems to be as much about this oven as anywhere, and I suppose that was left to shelter and conceal the harbor for the smugglers."

"I tell you, Walter, 'twill seem real nice, after being penned up aboard ship, to lie down under a tree, stretch out, loll about, no 'anchor watch,' don't care whether school keeps or not, even if you don't do any more than that."

"There's a roll of canvas under my berth. I'll ask the captain to give us enough to make a couple of packs."

Having obtained the canvas, needles, and twine, they were soon in the Bird's Nest, sewing and talking over their proposed tramp. They invited Jacques to make one of the party; but he was about to return and resume his employment of fishing, and in the mean time keep watch of the English fleet, and pick up any information that was valuable, until his services should be again required as pilot.

Walter sent Ned to the captain for liberty, which he not only gave cheerfully, but added, "There's nothing to be done; you may stay as long as you like; only be sure, if you see any change in the weather, to hurry aboard."

Ned, delighted, thanked the captain most enthusiastically.

"You know, Ned," said he, "you have not enjoyed much for a boy. You've never had a great deal of boyhood, you were kept at school very closely by your parents, then went to sea, was cast away. When you got over that, went right off again, was wounded, suffered a great deal, and then was disappointed in respect to the good time you were reckoning upon at Pleasant Cove with Mr. Murch and Walter. Now you are a right down good boy, Ned, and I hope you will enjoy yourself, for nobody can tell what will befall us next."

Having set out at sunrise, they travelled till noon, and after gaining the summit of a high hill, lay down beneath a tree to rest. Their life on shipboard had entirely unfitted them for walking; the strap of the packs cut their shoulders, and they were thirsty, for the dry, barren plains of Provence afforded no water: they were extremely fatigued.

After stretching themselves at full length upon the ground to rest, not caring whether school kept or not, they went in quest of water, and at last came to a place where a very little trickled from a seam in the ledge, but was evaporated by the hot sun, nearly as fast as it ran, barely moistening the rock.

"What shall we do, Walter?"

"I'll show you."

He broke some branches from a clump of pine bushes, set them against the rock, then sat down with Ned under them. The bushes kept off the sun, and the water, no longer evaporating, collected in a little cavity of the rock, and they were bountifully supplied. Opening their packs, they began to eat with the greatest relish.

"We're all right now, Wal!" said Ned.

"I shall be when I get this junk of beef down. It came from Elm Island—Lion Ben's old brindled ox. Only see the fat on it!—that goes to the right place, Ned. I call this rather a poor, mean country; the soil seems to be a hungry gravel, all burnt up; scarcely any wood."

"I suppose they don't need a great deal, only a little to cook with, the weather is so warm."

"The captain says they have cold winds in the spring, from the mountains, and hail and snow—hail enough sometimes to kill sheep and destroy the whole crop."

They now resumed their packs and went on, chatting and