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Python Advanced Programming: The
Guide to Learn Python Programming.
Reference with Exercises and Samples
About Dynamical Programming,
Multithreading, Multiprocessing,
Debugging, Testing and More

Marcus Richards

Published by Marcus Richards, 2024.


While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book,
the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for
damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

PYTHON ADVANCED PROGRAMMING: THE GUIDE TO LEARN PYTHON


PROGRAMMING. REFERENCE WITH EXERCISES AND SAMPLES ABOUT
DYNAMICAL PROGRAMMING, MULTITHREADING, MULTIPROCESSING,
DEBUGGING, TESTING AND MORE

First edition. March 19, 2024.

Copyright © 2024 Marcus Richards.

ISBN: 979-8224869794

Written by Marcus Richards.


TABLE OF CONTENTS

Title Page

Copyright Page

Chapter 1: Advanced Programming Techniques

Further Procedural Programming

Branching Using Dictionaries

Generator Expressions and Functions

Chapter 2: Dynamic Code Execution

Dynamic Code Execution

Dynamically Importing Modules

Function and Method Decorators

Function Annotations

Chapter 3: Further Object-Oriented Programming

Controlling Attribute Access

Functors
Context Managers

Descriptors

Class Decorators

Abstract Base Classes

Multiple Inheritance

The metaclass

Chapter 4: Functional-Style Programming

Partial Function Application

Coroutines

Performing Independent Actions on Data

Chapter 5: DEBUGGING, TESTING AND PROFILING

Chapter 6: Debugging

Dealing with Syntax Errors

Dealing with Runtime Errors

Scientific Debugging
Unit Testing

Profiling

Chapter 7: Processes and Threading

Using the Multiprocessing Module

Sign up for Marcus Richards's Mailing List


CHAPTER 1: ADVANCED PROGRAMMING
TECHNIQUES
In this Chapter we will investigate a wide scope of programming
methodologies and present various extra, consistently further created,
Python etymological structure. Bits of the material in this segment is
very trying, yet recall that the most dynamic techniques are now and
again required and you can commonly skim the primary go through to
get an idea of what should be conceivable and scrutinized even more
circumspectly when the need rises.

The part's first area delves all the more profoundly into Python's
procedural highlights. It begins by telling the best way to utilize what
we previously canvassed in a novel manner, and after that profits to
the topic of generators. The segment at that point presents dynamic
programming—stacking modules by name at runtime and executing
self-assertive code at runtime. The area comes back to the subject of
nearby (settled) capacities, however what's more covers the utilization
of the nonlocal watchword and recursive capacities. Prior we
perceived how to utilize Python's predefined decorators—in this
segment we figure out how to make our own decorators. The area
finishes up with inclusion of annotations.

The second part covers all new material relating to object-oriented


program-ming. It starts by the introduction of __slots__, a mechanism
to minimize the memory used by any object. Then, it shows how to
access object attributes without using its properties.
The section also describes functors, and context managers—these are
used in conjunction with the with keyword, and in many cases (e.g.,
file handling) they can be used to replace try ... except ... finally
constructs with simpler try ... except constructs. The section also
shows how to create custom context managers, and introduces
additional advanced features, including class decorators, abstract base
classes, multiple inheritance, and metaclasses.

The third area intoduces some basic concepts of functional


programming, and presents some valuable functions from the
functools, itertools,and administrator modules. This segment
additionally tells the best way to utilize halfway capacity application to
simplify code, and how to make and utilize co-routines.

This chapter takes everything that we have just covered and


transforms it into the "deluxe Python toolbox", with all the first
instruments (tech-niques and punctuations), in addition to numerous
new ones that can make our programming simpler, shorter, and
increasingly viable. A portion of the devices can have tradable uses,
for instance, a few occupations should be possible utilizing either a
class decorator or a metaclass, while others, for example, descriptors,
can be utilized in various approaches to accomplish various impacts. A
portion of the apparatuses secured here, for instance, setting
supervisors, we will utilize constantly, and others will stay prepared
close by for those specific circumstances for which they are the ideal
arrangement.
FURTHER PROCEDURAL PROGRAMMING

The majority of this area manages additional facilities relating with


procedural programming and functions, yet the absolute first
subsection is diverse in that it shows a helpful programming system
dependent on what we previously covered without presenting any
new syntax.
BRANCHING USING DICTIONARIES

As we noted before, functions are items like everything else in Python,


and a function’s name is an object reference that alludes to the
functions. On the off chance that we compose a function’s name
without brackets, Python realizes we mean the reference, and we can
transfer such references around simply like any others. We can utilize
this reality to supplant if proclamations that have loads of elif
provisions with a single function call.

We will obseve an intelligent console called dvds-dbm.py, featuring


the following menu:

(A)dd (E)dit (L)ist (R)emove (I)mport e(X)port (Q)uit

The software has a function that gets the user’s decision and which
will return just a legitimate decision, for this situation one of "an", "e",
"l", "r", "I", "x", and "q". Here are two proportional code pieces for
calling the important functions dependent on the user’s decision:

if action == "a":

add_dvd(db)

elif action == "e":

edit_dvd(db)
elif action == "l":

list_dvds(db)

elif action == "r":

remove_dvd(db)

elif action == "i":

import_(db)

elif action == "x":

export(db)

elif action == "q":

quit(db)
functions = dict(a=add_dvd, e=edit_dvd, l=list_dvds, r=remove_dvd,
i=import_, x=export, q=quit)

functions[action](db)
The decision is held as a one-character string in the activity variable,
and the database to be utilized is held in the db variable. The
import_() function has a trailing underscore to keep it distinct from
the built-in import proclamation.

In the correct hand code piece we make a lexicon whose keys are the
legitimate menu decisions, and whose qualities are function
references. In the second proclamation we recover the function
reference comparing to the given activity and call the function alluded
to utilizing the call administrator, (), and in this model, passing the db
contention. Not exclusively is the code on the right-hand side a lot
shorter than the code on the left, yet in addition it can scale (have
unmistakably more word reference things) without influencing its
performance, dissimilar to one side hand code whose speed relies
upon what number of elifs must be tried to locate the suitable
function to call.

The convert-incidents.py program uses this technique in its import_()


method, as this extract from the method shows:

call = {(".aix", "dom"): self.import_xml_dom,

(".aix", "etree"): self.import_xml_etree,

(".aix", "sax"): self.import_xml_sax,

(".ait", "manual"): self.import_text_manual,


(".ait", "regex"): self.import_text_regex,

(".aib", None): self.import_binary,

(".aip", None): self.import_pickle}

result = call[extension, reader](filename)

The total method is 13 lines in length; the expansion parameter is


processed in the method, and the reader is passed in. The word
reference keys are 2-tuples, and the qualities are methods. On the off
chance that we had utilized if statements, the code would be 22 lines
in length, and would not scale also.
GENERATOR EXPRESSIONS AND
FUNCTIONS

It is additionally conceivable to make generator expressions. These


are syntactically nearly identical to list comprehensions, the distinction
being that they are encased in paantheses instead of backets. Here
are their syntaxes:

(expression for item in iterable)

(expression for item in iterable if condition)

Here are two equal code bits that show how a simple for ... in loop
containing a yield articulation can be coded as a generator:

def items_in_key_order(d): def items_in_key_order(d):

for key in sorted(d): return ((key, d[key])

yield key, d[key] for key in sorted(d))

Both functions return a generator that produces a list of key–value


items for the given dictionary. If we need all the items in one go we
can pass the generator returned by the
functions to list() or tuple(); otherwise, we can iterate over the
generator to retrieve items as we need them.

Generators give a method for performing languid evaluation, which


implies that they figure just the values that are really required. This
can be more productive than, say, processing an extremely enormous
rundown in one go. A few generators produce the same number of
values as we request—with no upper limit. For instance:

def quarters(next_quarter=0.0):

while True:

yield next_quarter

next_quarter += 0.25

This function will return 0.0, 0.25, 0.5, and so on, forever. Here is how
we could use the generator:

result = []

for x in quarters():

result.append(x)

if x >= 1.0:

break
The break command is useful - without that, the for ... in loop would
never finish!

At the end the result list is [0.0, 0.25, 0.5, 0.75, 1.0].

Each time we call quarters() we get back a generator that starts at


0.0 and increments by 0.25; yet imagine a scenario in which we need
to reset the generator's present value. It is possible to pass a value
into a generator, as this new version of the generator function shows:

def quarters(next_quarter=0.0):

while True:

received = (yield next_quarter)

if received is None:

next_quarter += 0.25

else:

next_quarter = received

The yield expression restores each an incentive to the caller in return.


What's more, if the caller calls the generator's send() technique, the
worth sent is gotten in the generator function as the consequence of
the yield expression. Here is the way we can utilize the new generator
function:

result = []

generator = quarters()

while len(result) < 5:

x = next(generator)

if abs(x - 0.5) < sys.float_info.epsilon:

x = generator.send(1.0)

result.append(x)

We make a variable to allude to the generator and call the implicit


next() function which recovers the next thing from the generator it is
given. (A similar impact can be accomplished by calling the
generator's __next__() unique strategy, for this situation, x =
generator.__next__().) If the worth is equivalent to 0.5 we send the
worth 1.0 into the generator (which quickly yields this value back).
This time the outcome rundown is [0.0, 0.25, 1.0, 1.25, 1.5].

In the following subsection we will audit the enchantment numbers.py


program which procedures files given on the command line. Sadly, the
Windows shell ace gram (cmd.exe) doesn't give trump card
development (likewise called file globing), so if a program is kept
running on Windows with the contention *.*, the strict content "*.*"
will go into the sys.argv list instead of the considerable number of files
in the present directory. We tackle this issue by making two distinctive
get_files() capacities, one for Windows and the other for Unix, the two
of which use generators. Here's the code:

if sys.platform.startswith("win"):

def get_files(names):

for name in names:

if os.path.isfile(name):

yield name

else:

for file in glob.iglob(name):

if not os.path.isfile(file):

continue

yield file

else:
def get_files(names):

return (file for file in names if os.path.isfile(file))


In either case the function is relied upon to be called with a rundown
of filenames, for instance, sys.argv[1:], as its contention.

On Windows the function repeats over every one of the names


recorded. For every filename, the function yields the name, however
for nonfiles (typically indexes), the glob module's glob.iglob() function
is utilized to restore an iterator to the names of the files that the
name speaks to after trump card extension. For a standard name like
autoexec.bat an iterator that produces one thing (the name) is
returned, and for a name that utilizations trump cards like *.txt an
iterator that creates all the coordinating files (for this situation those
with expansion .txt) is returned. (There is likewise a glob.glob()
function that profits a rundown as opposed to an iterator.)

On Linux the shell does special case development for us, so we simply
need to restore a generator for every one of the files whose names
we have been given.

Generator functions can likewise be utilized as co-routines, on the off


chance that we structure them effectively. Co-routines are functions
that can be suspended in mid-execution (at the yield articulation),
trusting that the yield will give an outcome to take a shot at, and once
got they keep processing.
CHAPTER 2: DYNAMIC CODE EXECUTION

In some cases it is easier to write a bit of code that generates the


code we need than to compose the required code legitimately. What's
more, in some contexts it is useful to give users a chance to input
code (for example, functions in a spreadsheet), and to give Python a
chance to execute the entered code for us as opposed to compose a
parser and handle it ourselves—in spite of the fact that executing self-
assertive code like that may be a potential security risk, obviously.
Another case that may need dynamic code execution is to give plug-
ins to broaden a program's usefulness. Using these plugins has one
significant disadvantage: all the necessary usefulness is not
incorporated with the expert gram (which can make the program
increasingly hard to convey and runs the risk of plug-ins getting lost),
however the advantages has that plug-ins can be redesigned
exclusively and can be given separately, perhaps to give
enhancements that were not initially envisaged.
DYNAMIC CODE EXECUTION

The easiest way to execute an expression is to use the built-in eval()


function. For example:

x = eval("(2 ** 31) - 1")# x == 2147483647

This is fine for user-entered expressions, yet consider the possibility


that we have to make a function progressively. For that we can utilize
the inherent executive() function. For instance, the user might give us
a formula such as 4πr2 and the name “area of sphere”, which they
want turned into a function. Assuming that x will be replaced with
math..pi, the function they want can be created like this:

import math

code = '''

def area_of_sphere(r):

return 4 * math.pi * r ** 2

'''

context = {}

context["math"] = math
exec(code, context)

We should utilize appropriate space—all things considered, the cited


code is standard Python. (In spite of the fact that for this situation we
could have composed everything on a single line in light of the fact
that the suite is only one line.)

On the off chance that exec() is called with some code as its solitary
contention there is no real way to get to any functions or factors that
are made because of the code being executed. Moreover, exec() can't
get to any imported modules or any of the factors, functions, or
different objects that are in degree at the purpose of the call. Both of
these issues can be understood by passing a dictionary as the
subsequent contention. The dictionary gives a spot where object
references can be kept for getting to after the exec() call has wrapped
up. For instance, the utilization of the setting dictionary implies that
after the exec() call, the dictionary has an object reference to the
area_of_sphere() function that was made by exec(). In this model we
required exec() to have the option to get to the math module, so we
embedded a thing into the setting dictionary whose key is the
module's name and whose worth is an object reference to the
comparing module object. This guarantees inside the exec() call,
math.pi is open

Now and again it is advantageous to give the whole worldwide setting


to exec(). This should be possible by passing the dictionary returned
by the globals() function. One weakness of this methodology is that
any objects made in the exec() call would be added to the worldwide
dictionary. An answer is to duplicate the worldwide setting into a
dictionary, for instance, setting = globals().copy(). This still gives
exec() access to imported modules and the factors and different
objects that are in scope, and in light of the fact that we have
duplicated, any progressions to the setting made inside the exec() call
are kept in the setting dictionary and are not spread to the worldwide
condition. (It may have the earmarks of being progressively secure to
utilize copy.deepcopy(), yet on the off chance that security is a worry
it is ideal to keep away from exec() out and out.) We can likewise pass
the local setting, for instance, by passing locals() as a third contention
—this makes objects in the local scope accessible to the code
executed by exec().

After the exec() call the context dictionary contains a key called
"area_of_sphere" whose value is the area_of_sphere() function. Here
is how we canaccess and call the function:

area_of_sphere = context["area_of_sphere"]

area = area_of_sphere(5)# area == 314.15926535897933


The area_of_sphere object is an object reference to the function we
have progressively made and can be utilized simply like some other
function. Also, in spite of the fact that we made just a single function
in the exec() call, not at all like eval(), which can work on just a single
articulation, exec() can deal with the same number of Python
proclamations as we like, including whole modules, as we will find in
the following subsection.
DYNAMICALLY IMPORTING MODULES

Python gives three simple mechanisms that can be utilized to make


plug-ins, all of which include bringing in modules by name at runtime.
What's more, when we have powerfully imported extra modules, we
can utilize Python's reflection functions to check the accessibility of
the functionality we need, and to access it as required.

In this subsection we will survey the enchantment numbers.py


program. This program peruses the initial 1 000 bytes of each record
given on the command line and for every one outputs the document's
sort (or the content "Obscure"), and the filename. Here is a model
command line and a concentrate from its yield:

C:\Python31\python.exe magic-numbers.py c:\windows\*.*

...

XML.................c:\windows\WindowsShell.Manifest

Unknown.............c:\windows\WindowsUpdate.log

Windows Executable..c:\windows\winhelp.exe

Windows Executable..c:\windows\winhlp32.exe

Windows BMP Image...c:\windows\winnt.bmp

...
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The Project Gutenberg eBook of The
sailor's home
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
you are located before using this eBook.

Title: The sailor's home


Or, the girdle of truth

Author: A. L. O. E.

Release date: March 19, 2024 [eBook #73200]

Language: English

Original publication: United Kingdom: Gall & Inglis, 1875

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SAILOR'S


HOME ***
Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is
as printed.

"You seem to be weary, my friend," said Mr. Curtis,


the vicar of Colme, stopping courteously to speak to a sailor,
who was seated on the stump of a tree at the side of the
pathway.
THE SAILOR'S HOME;
OR,

The Girdle of Truth.

BY

A. L. O. E.

AUTHORESS OF "THE CLAREMONT TALES," "THE YOUNG PILGRIM,"


"THE COTTAGE BY THE STREAM," "HARRY DANGERFIELD,"
"GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN," ETC., ETC.

GALL & INGLIS.

London: Edinburgh:

30 PATERNOSTER ROW. 6 GEORGE STREET.


CONTENTS.

CHAPTER

I. COMING HOME

II. SPEAKING OUT

III. THINKING IT OVER

IV. PUT TO THE QUESTION

V. THE LAME SQUIRREL

VI. A STORM

VII. THE FOOTPRINT

VIII. THE SCHOOL-ROOM ADDRESS

IX. CLEARING UP

The Sailor's Home;


OR,

THE GIRDLE OF TRUTH.


CHAPTER I.
COMING HOME.

"You seem to be weary, my friend," said Mr. Curtis, the


vicar of Colme, stopping courteously to speak to a sailor,
who was seated on the stump of a tree at the side of the
pathway. It was a glowing day in August; the air was hot
and sultry, and dust lay thick on the road.

Ned Franks, the sailor, rose on being addressed, and


touched his glazed hat, on which appeared the badge of the
anchor, surmounted by a crown, which showed that he had
belonged to the Royal Navy. He was a fine stalwart-looking
young man, scarcely thirty years of age, with sunburnt
cheek, and thick curling hair; and as Mr. Curtis met the
glance of his clear blue eye, the clergyman thought that he
had never looked upon a face more manly or pleasant.

"I've walked twenty miles, sir, since sunrise," said


Franks, glancing at the bundle which he had been carrying
on a stick across his shoulder, and which was now resting
against the stump from which he had risen. "But I'm nigh
port now, I take it, if yonder's the village of Colme."

"Are you going to visit it?" asked the vicar.

"I'm going to drop anchor there for good, sir," answered


the tar. "I've a sister—a step-sister I should say, living
yonder; she and I are all that are left of the family now, and
I'll make my home with her, please God."
"Surely you are too young to give up the navy, my
friend. Idleness would be no blessing to a fine strong lad
such as you seem to be; you may have many years before
you yet of good service to the Queen."

"I shall never serve the Queen again, bless her!" replied
the young sailor, with a touch of sadness.

And Mr. Curtis then, for the first time, remarked that
the left sleeve of Ned's blue jacket hung empty.

"But I don't look to be idle, sir," continued Franks, in a


tone more cheerful, "Bessy will have my bit of a pension for
the mess and the berth, and I'll see if I can't make myself
useful in some way or other—go errands, or maybe try the
teaching tack; anything would be better than lying like a log
on the shore."

"Teaching?" repeated the clergyman. "What are you


able to teach?"

"Not many things," replied the sailor, with a smile,


"reading, 'riting, 'rithmetic, and not much of them neither;
but I like a book when I can overhaul one, and I usually
make good way with the younkers."

"I well believe that," said Mr. Curtis; "I doubt not that
you've many a good sea story to tell, and stirring adventure
to relate. I see," he continued, "from the badge on your hat
that you've served in the 'Queen;' I daresay that you lost
your arm by a Russian ball from a Sebastopol battery," and
the vicar looked with interest at the young seaman,
picturing him at the post of duty amidst the smoke and din
of a fight.

"No, sir," replied Ned, frankly; "I smashed my arm on


shore, stumbling down an open cellar on a starless night."
Mr. Curtis slightly raised his eyebrows, and there was a
little less interest in his manner as he inquired, "And who is
the sister with whom you are to live?"

"Bessy Peele, sir; she's a widow in these parts."

"I know her," said Mr. Curtis, rather drily; "she lives in
the thatched cottage yonder, whose chimney you can just
see over these trees. I hope that she may make you
comfortable," he added.

"It's not much, sir, that I want," said the sailor: "a dry
berth, a wholesome mess, and a welcome, he who gets that
may be thankful, whether on sea or on shore."

"I shall call and see you," said the clergyman, kindly,
"and have a little talk with you on other matters than those
which concern but this passing life."

"I shall be heartily glad, sir," replied Ned, again


touching his glazed hat; "it's well to have some one to teach
us how to steer 'twixt the rocks and the shoals."

"I hope that we have both the same port in view," said
the clergyman.

"I hope so," answered Ned Franks, cheerfully; and as


the vicar bade him good day, he turned in the direction of
his new home.

Mrs. Peele's cottage stood a little retired from the dusty


high road, being divided from it by a bit of waste ground, on
which some pigs were feeding. The ground was overgrown
with nettles and straggling briars: the dwelling was of mud,
with a roof of thatch, green with lichen and moss, under
which, as under heavy overhanging brows, peeped two dots
of windows like eyes. The door stood open, and within Ned
caught sight of his sister engaged in washing.

Mrs. Peele was a tall bony woman, with a habitual


stoop, clad in a rusty black dress, with a cap which was
rustier still. Broad lines of grey streaked her hair, and Ned's
first feeling was that of painful surprise at the change which
years had made. He did not stop, however, to dwell on the
past.

"Holloa, Bessy! Don't you know me?" he exclaimed, as


he quickened his pace, and the next minute Mrs. Peele had
run out, with her bare arms covered with soap-suds, to
welcome her younger brother.

She was followed by a lad about ten or eleven years of


age; a sharp, wiry boy, whose pointed upturned nose, quick
little black eyes, and restless manner, somehow suggested
to the sailor's mind the idea of a weasel. Ned shook him
heartily by the hand on hearing that this was his nephew
Dan; and, with a heart glowing with pleasure at being once
more in a home, the seaman entered the cottage
accompanied by the Peeles.

"Now, Dan, you take your uncle, and show him his
room, while I wring these out, and get a bit of something
ready for dinner," said Bessy. "I hardly looked for you so
early, Ned," she added, addressing herself to her brother.

"I was up with the lark," answered the sailor.

Dan, looking up with curiosity in his keen small eyes


towards the stranger, whom he scarcely yet ventured to call
"uncle," led the way to the back of the cottage, where was a
kind of garden—if a place could deserve that name where
nothing but sickly cabbages seemed to grow, with a full
crop of chickweed and groundsel between. A small wood-
house adjoined the cottage, and over this was a little loft, to
be reached by a rough sort of ladder.

"We're to go up the hatchway, are we?" said Ned,


mounting the ladder with a lightness and rapidity which
surprised his nephew. He had to stoop his curly head low as
he passed through the entrance, the door of which
appeared never to have been intended to fit, since even
when shut it admitted as much light as the small one-paned
window of greenish glass, with a thick knob in the middle.
The loft was very small, with walls unpapered, and rafters
uncovered; a dirty mattress lay on the dirtier floor, and a
musty scent pervaded the place.

"I can't say much for the berth," thought Ned; "it's not
big enough to swing a cat in, and doesn't look as if the
planks had ever been holystoned. I must set things a little
ship-shape. Bessy, poor soul, has enough to keep her busy
with her washing; I must try if I can't make my one hand
do the business of two."

The man-of-war's seaman, accustomed to spotless


cleanliness and neatness, looked around on the miserable
den with a mixture of disgust and good humour.

"I'll rub up the bull's eye," he said, "and get that door to
fasten with something better than a piece of old rope; and
I'll try to knock up a bit of a shelf in that corner, for I've a
few books in that bundle of mine. We'll soon have all right
and trim as a captain's cabin!"

Ned Franks was to find that other things in his new


home required setting to rights as well as his loft, and that
there are spots and stains harder to rub out than those on
his walls and floor.
"Why don't you keep that garden in trimmer order?"
asked the sailor, as he descended the ladder, followed by
Dan. "You might grow enough of potatoes and cabbages in
yon slip to supply your mother half the year."

"I've not a minute's time," answered Dan; "I look after


Sir Lacy Barton's cows."

"Lacy Barton!" repeated Ned. "Why that's the name of


one of our middies."

"Sir Lacy has a son in the 'Queen' as I've heard."

"What are you saying about Sir Lacy?" asked Bessy


Peele, catching the sound of the name, as her brother and
Dan re-entered the kitchen.

"That he has a son aboard my old vessel the 'Queen.'"

"That's a piece of luck for us!" cried Bessy, pausing in


her occupation of cutting rashers from a fine large piece of
bacon. "He's our landlord, is Sir Lacy Barton, and he's
thinking of pulling down our cottage to build the new school
in its place, and I'm mighty anxious to be in his favour. 'Tis
a lucky chance that you've come, and can tell him all about
his son."

"That depends on what I've to tell," answered Ned, with


a smile; "in some cases, it's 'least said soonest mended.' I
hope that none of the family will come to question me about
young Mr. Barton—" and the frank face of the sailor
expressed more than his words, as he remembered the
doings of the most worthless youth on board of the man-of-
war.

"Well, if you was asked, you'd say something pleasant I


hope," observed Bessy.
"I could not say what was false," answered Ned.

The words were simple enough, but the decided tone in


which they were uttered, made Bessy exchange glances
with her son. The boy shrugged his shoulders slightly, and
something like a smile rose to the corners of his lips. The
very straightforwardness of the sailor made him appear
strange to those who had long mistaken cunning for
wisdom, and low deceit for sharpness.

CHAPTER II.
SPEAKING OUT.

The table was spread with food, homely but abundant,


steaming bacon and greens.

"A twenty miles' walk must have made you ready for
your dinner, Ned," said Bessy, as she seated herself at the
table, and a well-filled plate was soon before each of the
party.

"Why, uncle, what are you waiting for?" asked Dan,


surprised that the hungry sailor did not at once begin his
meal.

"Bessy," said Ned, quietly, "do you say grace, or shall


I?"
Again mother and son exchanged glances. As no answer
was given, Ned, in few words, thanked God for His mercies
through Christ. This was no mere form with the weather-
beaten sailor, who found himself in haven at last, after the
tempest and the fight, the hardships and perils of a sea life,
and was thankful to God for mercies greater than
preservation through all these.

"I'm afraid," said Ned, looking with a good-humoured


smile at his plate, "that a maimed Jack-tar such as I am,
must signal for assistance even at the mess."

Bessy had for the moment forgotten her brother's


condition; she had not realised the constant inconvenience
which must follow the loss of an arm. Ned's misfortune did
not, however, appear in the least to weigh down his spirits,
and he chatted merrily through dinner-time, talking over old
days, and then making inquiries as to what hope there
might be of his getting such employment as might suit a
one-armed man.

"I've heard as how Mr. Curtis, our vicar, is looking out


for some one to help with his school," said Dan.

"I think that it must have been your parson who hailed
me on my course here," observed Ned.

"He's rather an oldish man, bald, with a little limp in his


walk," said Dan.

"That's he!" cried the sailor. "He talked to me friendly


enough, and asked me how I had lost my arm."

"And what said you?" inquired Bessy.

"The truth, of course, that I was lubber enough to


stumble down into a cellar at night."
"Oh! Ned, he would think that you were drunk,"
exclaimed Bessy.

"I'm afraid that he did," said Ned. "I could see in his
face that I'd let myself down a peg in his good opinion."

"Oh! Uncle, what a chance you lost!" cried Dan, his


black eyes twinkling slily under his shock of rough hair. "If
I'd been you, I'd have told such a tale, how I lost that arm
boarding a thundering big ship, or saving an officer's life, or
doing some desperate deed! You'd have been a reg'lar hero
in Colme; they'd have been getting up a subscription for
you, and Mr. Curtis would have clapped you into the place of
teacher at once! 'Twould have been the making of you, it
would!"

"Dan," said Ned, laying down his fork, and looking


steadily at his nephew across the table, "do you know what
a lie is?"

The boy was taken aback by the sudden question, and


his eyes sunk under the gaze that was fixed upon him.

Receiving no answer, the sailor went on—"A lie is a


mean thing—a senseless, a wicked: a habitual liar is a
sneak, a coward, and a fool!"

"A fool! I don't see how you can make that out,"
muttered Dan, who was secretly not a little proud of his
cunning, and who thought the name of fool a great deal
worse than that of knave.

"It's easy enough to make out," said Ned; "a liar is a


fool as regards this life; for, look ye, he's sure to be found
out afore long, and a good character is worth more than
anything that he could get in exchange for it. Is it nothing
to be trusted, is it nothing to be able to look any man in the
face?"

Dan was at the moment uneasily peering down at the


crumbs on the floor.

"Would a man not be called a fool who should put to sea


in a vessel whose timbers were all rotten, however gaily
painted she might be, or however fine a figure-head she
might carry? She must be stove in when the first storm
came, she must soon show that she was not seaworthy."

Ned had spoken with the fiery energy of one who, as he


often owned, carried "too much gunpowder in his cargo;"
but his tone softened to quiet earnestness as he went on.

"And if we come to speak of another world, my lad,


what shall we say of the folly of lying, whatever the
temptation to do so may be? Was it without reason, think
you, that St. Paul, when telling how a Christian man should
be armed to fight against the devil, bade him first be 'girt
about with truth.' * Why, we couldn't so much as set a foot
in the golden city without it; you've heard what's said in
God's Word of that matter; outside, shut out of glory, in
company with murderers and idolaters will be 'whosoever
loveth and maketh a lie'! † The devil himself is the father of
lies, ‡ such as make them, follow him; and they who
choose their portion with him are fools, whatever the world
may give, or whatever the world may call them!"

* Eph. vi. 14. † Rev. xxii. 15. ‡ John viii. 44.

There was silence in the cottage for several minutes


after Ned had ceased speaking.
Dan attempted no reply, but finished his dinner in
somewhat sulky reserve; then appearing suddenly to
remember that he had to look after the cows, the boy rose
and slunk out of the place. Dan did not, however, go in the
direction of the fields, but into the village to play at pitch-
and-toss with Tom and Jack Mullins, and to tell them
wonderful stories of his sailor uncle, who was, he said, a
first-rate fellow for fighting, and polished off Russians as
fast as they might knock down ninepins, but who had a
ticklish temper to deal with, flaring up like fire at a word.

CHAPTER III.
THINKING IT OVER.

"You took Dan up sharp, brother," said Bessy, as her son


quitted the cottage.

"Maybe I did," answered Ned, frankly. "I'm trying to


keep down that hot temper of mine, but there's nothing
stirs it up like anything of deceit, and it gets in a blaze afore
I'm aware. There was something in the lad's looks more
than his words, that made me fancy him one of those who
don't see clearly the difference atween truth and falsehood,
and who get amongst the shoals almost without knowing it.
I wanted to show him the beacon lights set in the Bible to
warn us off them, that's all."

"Ah! Dan's quick enough at lying," said Bessy, with a


sigh. "I can't believe a word that he says. Many and many's
the time I tells him, 'Dan, with all those fine stories of
yours, you'll get into trouble at last.'"

"And don't you tell him," said Ned, "that God hears, and
marks down, and that 'every idle word that men shall
speak, they shall give account thereof in the Day of
Judgment'?" *

* Matt. xii. 36.

"Oh! I'm not one of your saints that likes religion


brought in at every turn," said Bessy, peevishly. "'Tis all well
enough to go decently to church on Sundays: and dear
me!" she exclaimed, suddenly interrupting herself, and
starting up from her seat. "If that is not Mrs. Curtis coming
over the green! That woman is always taking one
unawares."

And, with a quickness which astonished the sailor, Bessy


whisked off the dish from the table, flung an old shawl over
the large piece of bacon from which the rashers had been
cut, and stowed away a heap of damp linen which she had
been washing into a cupboard.

"She's in a mighty hurry to tidy the room for the lady,"


thought Ned, "but it doesn't look a bit neater than before."

Just as Bessy had finished her hasty preparations, Mrs.


Curtis, a small, delicate lady, very simply but neatly
dressed, tapped at the door of the cottage, and entered.
Bessy was all smiles and curtsies; she dusted a chair and
placed it for her guest, hoped that she had not been
troubled by the heat of the day, and asked after "the young
masters and misses," like one who took an affectionate
interest in the well-being of the family.
"I am glad to see your brother here," said Mrs. Curtis,
courteously bending her head as the sailor respectfully rose
at her entrance.

"Ah! Yes, poor fellow!" exclaimed Bessy. "He's my only


brother living, and as long as I have a crust, he shall be
welcome to share it. We must all care for one another,
ma'am, as our good minister told us last Sunday in his
beautiful sermon."

"It would be but fair," thought Ned, "if Bessy gave the
lady a notion that I pay for this half-crust with the whole of
my pension."

"It's but a poor home that my brother has come to,"


continued Bessy, whose voice, in addressing the
clergyman's wife, had a plaintive drawling tone, quite unlike
that in which she usually spoke. "I have been wanting
much, ma'am, to speak a word or two to you or to Mr.
Curtis."

"My husband told me that he intended to call here


soon," said the lady.

"Ah! How glad I am even to see his blessed face. Ah!


What I owe him," cried Bessy, heaving a long sigh, as if to
express by it gratitude too deep for words. "But what I was
a-going to say, ma'am, was, that I hopes as how Mr. Curtis
will be good enough to put me again on the widows' list for
the loaves. I've really such a hard pull to live, I don't know
how we can get on without it;" and there was another long-
drawn sigh.

"Ha!" thought the indignant sailor. "The gratitude was


for favours to come."
"I don't see how my husband can put you on the needy
widows' list," said the clergyman's quiet little wife; "your
daughter is in service, your son gets work, you take in
washing—"

"Please, ma'am, begging pardon for interrupting you,"


said Bessy, again dropping a curtsey, "the trifle Dan earns
would not keep him in bread (and it's little but bread as
ever we tastes), and I've not had all this blessed week more
than tenpence worth of washing, and—" here Bessy Poole's
eyes chanced to meet those of her brother, flashing on her
a glance of such fiery indignation, that, quite confused, she
stopped short, stammered, and could not finish what she
was saying.

Mrs. Curtis naturally turned to see the cause of the


cottager's evident embarrassment, and was much struck by
the stern countenance of the young man, who stood tightly
pressing his lips together, as if to keep in some indignant
burst. Finding that he had attracted notice, Ned, who had
no wish to expose his sister, and who had difficulty in
commanding himself, thought it safest to quit the cottage
without uttering a word.

"Is anything the matter with your brother?" asked the


lady, after Ned's abrupt departure.

"He has an odd temper, ma'am, very odd; I know that


we shall have a good deal to put up with, but, as our good
minister told us last Sunday—" and the woman went on
with a string of what were meant as pious phrases, but
which, being only lip-deep, made far less impression on her
visitor than the speaker wished and intended.

"She talk to her son about truth," exclaimed the


indignant Ned Franks, as he strode into the back-garden,
forgetful, in the storm of his spirit, of the twenty miles
which he had walked in the morning. "An acted lie is as bad
as a spoken one, and her way of going on was all one
wretched piece of acting from beginning to end. If there's
one thing I scorn, despise, and detest more than another,
it's hypocrisy like that."

Ned struck the nailed heel of his boot violently against


one of the weeds, and uprooted it from the ground; perhaps
he connected the worthless plant in his mind with the more
hateful weed of deceit, or he wanted something on which to
vent the angry feelings within him.

"All weeds!" he muttered to himself, "I've a great mind


to hoist sail at once and sheer off, and find some other
home where all will be open and above board, at least
where there will be no hoisting of false colours, or hanging
out of false lights, saying one thing and thinking another."

Ned took one or two rapid turns up and down the


garden; then gradually slackened his pace as his anger
began to cool down.

"Who am I that I should judge another?" thought the


frank-hearted seaman. "Are we not all of an evil nature, our
souls as full of wickedness as this wretched garden of
weeds? There's nothing good grows of itself, it's all God's
grace as plants it. Am I—wilful wayward sinner as I have
been—am I to throw my own sister overboard, because she
has not yet been led to see things as I see them, and to
know that the straight course is the shortest course, and
the only course that can land us in a safe haven at last?
Maybe, with prayer and pains, we'll get the better both of
her weeds and mine; I master my impatience and bad
temper, she, and that lad of hers, learn that 'a lying tongue
is an abomination unto the Lord', * and that all who serve a
God of Truth must speak the truth from the heart."

* Proverbs vi. 17.

Ned took another turn up and down, stooping down now


and then to pull up and throw away some straggling weed,
till he found his spirit calm enough for prayer. The sailor
looked up at the sky, so blue, and clear, and transparent
above him, and his heart rose, in what was earnest
supplication, though he could not have put it into a regular
form of prayer. He wished that his deeds, and his sayings,
and those of his family, might be pure, and clear, and open
as heaven's sunlight; that they might be in the sight of God
what they wanted to appear in the sight of men, and be
honest and true in all things, like faithful servants of the
Lord.

Ned's meditations were broken in upon by Bessy Peele,


who came running up towards him, with a bustling, excited
air.

"What's in the wind?" cried Ned.

"You must come in directly," answered Bessy. "Who do


you think is in my kitchen—I knew she'd be here—but I'm
sure—for Lady Barton herself to walk all the way from the
Hall!"

"What has she come for?" asked Ned, knitting his brow
from an uneasy apprehension of what was likely to follow.

"To hear about her son, to be sure! Lady Barton thinks


no end of her son—a pretty scapegrace though he be! When
he left her, she lay crying in her bed for a week—there was
never a mother so fond—or so blind!"

"But what can I say?" exclaimed Ned. "I can tell nothing
good of the lad!"

"You must invent something good then!" cried Bessy, in


an irritated tone. "I can't have you, with your stupid
bluntness, setting my landlord's wife against me, and
getting my home pulled down over my head at Michaelmas,
and my boy turned off, and my washing taken away!"

"I'd better not see Lady Barton," said Ned.

"Shall I hurry back and say I couldn't find you? You


could get over yon hedge and be off, without coming in
front of the cottage."

"No—no sneaking," said the sailor, quickly. "I'll face out


the matter at once!"

"And you'll say the best you can!" cried Bessy, changing
her tone and tactics with a perception that her best chance
with Ned lay in working upon his affection. "You wouldn't
injure your poor widowed sister, as looks to you for comfort
and kindness?"

"I'll do no harm—if I can help it!" muttered the tar,


feeling far more uneasy as he followed his sister than he
would have done had he been led up to an enemy's battery.

CHAPTER IV.
PUT TO THE QUESTION.

LADY BARTON sat in the old wooden arm-chair, which


formed the chief article of furniture in Mrs. Peele's kitchen,
the flounces of her rich blue silk dress filling up the space
between the red brick fireplace and the deal table, which
was still scattered over with the crumbs of the recent
repast. Lady Barton was a stately and elegant woman, with
an air of fashion and dignity, which contrasted with the
simple attire and manner of Mrs. Curtis, with whom she was
conversing before Ned and Bessy re-entered the cottage.

As they came in, Lady Barton was just returning into


her pocket a purse, from which she had taken a half
sovereign, with what intent both the sailor and Bessy could
not but guess as they caught sight of the glittering beads of
the purse as it was replaced within the silk dress.

"Ah!" exclaimed Lady Barton, with a queenly


graciousness of manner to the sailor, "I am glad to have an
opportunity of speaking with one of the gallant men who
have served in the same ship with my son. You can give me
late accounts of Mr. Lacy Barton."

With a bright smile on her lips, the lady awaited Ned's


reply.

"I was aboard the same vessel as Mr. Barton for more
than a year," said the tar, with the respectful manner with
which he would have spoken to any lady.

"You must have seen much of him then?"

Ned only bowed, thinking to himself "a good deal too


much."
As he did not seem inclined to be communicative, the
partial mother tried to draw him out by an observation! "My
son usually makes himself a great favourite wherever he
goes."

Bessy nudged her brother's arm, but Ned did not speak
at the hint.

Lady Barton's gloved hand closed more tightly over the


little piece of gold which it hid; rather less graciously she
inquired whether Mr. Barton had been quite well when the
sailor had seen him last.

Ned paused for a moment before he replied. "There was


nothing much the matter with his health."

The tender mother took alarm from his hesitation as


well as his words.

"Not much the matter?" she anxiously repeated. "Was


Mr. Barton not well, was he obliged to keep his cabin?"

"Only for a few days, lady," said Ned, sincerely desirous


to relieve her.

"What ailed him?" asked Lady Barton. "Was he laid up


with fever?" Her voice betrayed her emotion.

"No, not fever," answered the sailor, wishing himself up


to his neck in water rather than standing there to answer
the lady's questions.

"It was not his chest—not his lungs?" said the anxious
mother, dropping her voice. "He was so subject to coughs
as a boy!"
"His lungs are as sound as can be, I'll answer for that!"
replied Ned, with a clear recollection of the strength of a
voice which, raised in an oath or a curse, might be heard
above the roar of a storm.

"Then what was the matter with him?" repeated Lady


Barton, in the tone of one who must, and will, have a reply.

Ned's honest face was suffused with a flush, as if he


himself had been the culprit as he answered—"He'd had a
bit of a spree on shore, and been knocked about a little;
these things will sometimes happen, but a few bruises don't
do much harm."

Lady Barton asked no more questions; she knew


enough of her son's former habits to enable her to guess
but too well what the sailor had left unsaid. Sorrow taking
the form of mortified pride, the lady drew herself up, and
the delicate kid-gloved hand slid something back into her
pocket, a movement which did not escape the covetous
eyes of Bessy.

Without condescending to say another word to Ned


Franks, Lady Barton rose from her seat, and, turning to
address Mrs. Curtis, plunged at once into a different subject
of conversation. She asked the vicar's wife about her
scholars, said that Sir Lacy had resolved on beginning to
build the new school at Michaelmas, and observed that
somewhere about this spot would be the best possible place
for the site.

Bessy clenched her teeth, and scowled at her brother,


but the expression of anger on her face was instantly
changed to one of obsequious mildness, as she caught the
eye of the stately Lady Barton. If Bessy had been gratified
by the visit of the vicar's wife, she was overwhelmed by the
honour of one from a titled lady, and with a double number
of curtsies and thanks, she shewed her two guests to the
door, sending blessings after them as long as they remained
within hearing.

And then!—

"You heartless good-for-nothing, unfeeling, ill-mannered


dolt!" she exclaimed, turning towards her brother with a
gesture of her clenched fist, as though she could have found
it in her heart to have struck him, had she dared. "What ill
luck brought you here to bring trouble, and ill-will, and ruin,
on a poor lone widow as never did you any harm!"

"I'm as vexed as you can be, Bessy," said the sailor,


passing his hand through his thick curly hair.

"You'd better have bit off that foolish tongue of yours,


than have let it provoke such a lady!"

"It was grieving the mother, that I felt," said Ned


Franks, "it was seeing her so anxious and troubled. 'Twas a
stiff gale to weather, and I was never in my life more nigh
dragging my anchor. But I'm glad," he added to himself,
"I'm glad that I held fast by the truth."

Ned was to have little peace during the remainder of


that day. He had to endure the "continual dropping" that
made him bitterly remember Solomon's proverb—"It is
better to dwell in a corner of the housetop, than with a
brawling woman in a wide house." *

* Proverbs xxi. 9.
On Dan's return home in the evening, the storm which
Ned had lulled a little, broke forth anew with fresh fury.

"What do you think, Dan, that this hero uncle of yours


has been a-doing!" exclaimed Bessy to her son, banging
down the kettle on the bar of the grate, as if it too had
grievously wronged her. "Lady Barton herself, in her grand
sweeping gown, came down from the Hall; I'd never but
once afore seen her enter my cottage, and that was when
your poor father lay a-dying!"

"What could she come for?" asked Dan, curiosity


gleaming in his keen little eyes.

"What for but to hear about her son, to be sure, and to


talk to this bear's cub about him, and to tip him with what
would have bought me a Sunday gown, I'll be bound, for I
saw the lady thrusting back her purse into her pocket. And
there was he—" Bessy pointed at Ned with her thumb—"first
standing dumb as a stock-fish, looking as if he couldn't
utter a word, and then bounce out with such a fine tale,
how Mr. Lacy had got himself smashed in a drunken row,
how he had to lie in his bed for days all covered with
bruises, how he was the most swaggering, quarrelsome—"

Ned felt the hot blood mounting to his face, and the
fiery passion to his heart: there was nothing for it but to
beat a retreat, before he should utter as an angry man what
as a Christian he might have regretted. Weary as the sailor
was, there was something which he felt to be worse than
fatigue, and he walked out into the cool fresh evening air,
once more to quiet his fevered spirit under the light of the
pale young moon.
CHAPTER V.
THE LAME SQUIRREL.

REFRESHED by a good night's rest, notwithstanding the


discomforts of his new abode, Ned Franks rose on the
following morning with a cheerful, thankful heart. He awoke
with the verse on his lips—

"I bless the Lord who safe hath kept,


Who did protect me while I slept.
Lord! Grant when I from death awake,
I may of endless life partake!"

Up sprang Ned from his rough bed, ready to forget and


to forgive the "breeze" of the preceding day, and to set
about his work in the spirit of the command, "whatsoever
thy hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might."

After his morning prayer, and Bible reading, Ned begun


in earnest to set things "ship-shape" in what he called his
"little cabin." The loss of his left hand greatly increased the
difficulty of labouring, but Ned Franks worked with a will,
and therefore with good success. His only interruptions
were from the little attentions required by a poor lame
squirrel that the sailor had picked up on the previous
evening, and which he nursed with the tenderness which
seems peculiar to seamen. Ned carried it down with him
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