"Wapping Old Stairs?" said the rough individual shouldering the brand-new sea-chest, and starting off at a trot with it; "yus, I know the place, captin. Fust v'y'ge, sir?" "Ay, ay, my hearty," replied the owner of the chest, a small, ill-looking lad of fourteen. "Not so fast with those timbers of yours. D'ye hear?" "All right, sir," said the man, and, slackening his pace, twisted his head round to take stock of his companion.