My Stowaway

One evening I stood at the deck of a ship which was ploughing its way in Atlantic ocean towards America. One man came to me and told that he was very hungry. Firstly I thought that he was a passenger on the ship, but in light I saw his poor face. The stranger told that he was from Liverpool and he was a stowaway and had not any money to buy some food. Also he described his decision to leave Britain and pleased not to tell the officers that he was a stowaway.