This ain't so bad, after all.

We're snug an' dry, an' we've got plenty to eat, so let the storm howl: "They bore him away when the day had fled, And the storm was rolling high, And they laid him down in his lonely bed, By the light of an angry sky, "The lightning flashed and the wild sea lashed The shore with its foaming wave, And the thunder passed on the rushing blast As it howled o'er the rover's grave." The full tenor rose and swelled above the sweep of wind and rain, and the man's soul was in the words he sang.

A great voice with the accompaniment of storm, the water before them, the lightning blazing at intervals, and the thunder rolling in a sublime refrain, moved Harry to his inmost soul.

The song ceased, but its echo was long in dying on the river.
"Did you pick up that, too, from a wandering fiddler ?" asked Harry.
"No, I don't know where I got it.

I s'pose I found scraps here an' thar, but I like to sing it when the night is behavin' jest as it's doin' now.
I ain't ever seen the sea, Harry, but it must be a mighty sight, particklarly when the wind's makin' the high waves run." "Very likely you'd be seasick if you were on it then.