the stooard's boys. What may you be, young feller?"
"Me? Oh! I 'm—I—why, I 'm on the electrical staff. I 'm"—he thought of the word secretary, but a feeling of modesty induced him to say—"assistant to one of the electricians."
"Which un?" demanded the lad curtly.
"Mr. Smith."
"Mr. Smith, eh! Well—it ain't an unusual name—Smith ain't. P'r'aps you 'll condescend on his first name, for there 's no less than three Smiths among the electricians.
"Ebenezer Smith, I believe," said Robin.
"Ebbysneezer Smith—eh? well, upon my word that 's a Smith-mixtur that I 've never heerd on before. I don't know 'im, but he's all right, I dessay. They 're a rum lot altogether."
Whether this compliment was meant for the great Smith family in general, or the electrical branch in particular, Robin could not guess, and did not like to ask. Having thus far opened his heart, however, he began to pour out its contents, and found that the ugly sailor lad was a much more sympathetic soul than he had been led to expect from his looks. Having told his own name, he asked that of his companion in return.
"My name—oh! it 's Slagg—Jim Slagg; James when you wants to be respeckful—Slagg when
