He was a huge, strong fellow of six feet, with a simpering boy's face
and curly light hair, and he insisted on carrying me on his back, as well
as a small box of ours under his arm. We turned down lanes, and went past
gas-works, boat-builders' yards, and riggers' lofts, and presently Ham
said,
"Yon's our house, Mas'r Davy!"
I looked over the wilderness, and away at the sea, and away at the river,
but no house could _I_ make out. There was a black barge not far off, high
and dry on the ground, with an iron funnel for a chimney, and smoking very
cosily.
"That's not it?" said I. "That ship-looking thing?"
"That's it, Mas'r Davy," returned Ham.
If it had been Aladdin's palace, I could not have been more charmed with
the romantic idea of living in it. There was a delightful door cut in the
side, and it was roofed in, and there were little windows in it. It was
beautifully clean inside and as tidy as possible. There was a table, and a
Dutch clock, and a chest of drawers. On the walls were some coloured
pictures of Biblical subjects. Abraham in red, going to sacrifice Isaac in
blue, and Daniel in yellow, cast into a den of green lions, were most
prominent.
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