is concerned, he is a broken man. His only chance
to earn a living was by heavy work. He is now
incapable of performing heavy work, and from now
until he dies, the spike, the peg, and the streets are
all he can look forward to in the way of food and
shelter. The thing happened that is all. He put
his back under too great a load of fish, and his
chance for happiness in life was crossed off the
books.

Several men in the line had been to the United
States, and they were wishing that they had re
mained there, and were cursing themselves for their
folly in ever having left. England had become a
prison to them, a prison from w r hich there was no
hope of escape. It was impossible for them to
get away. They could neither scrape together the
passage money, nor get a chance to work their
passage. The country was too overrun by poor
devils on that lay.

I was on the seafaring-man-who-had-lost-his-clothes-
and-money tack, and they all condoled with me and
gave me much sound advice. To sum it up, the
advice was something like this: To keep out of all
places like the spike. There was nothing good in
it for me. To head for the coast and bend every
effort to get away on a ship. To go to work, if
possible, and scrape together a pound or so, with
which I might bribe some steward or underling to

[[94]]

p093 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p094w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p095

v?