"A couple of years ago I had a seven-ton cutter-rigged yacht, the Banshee, and we ran over to Madeira from Falmouth." "You ma'am, in a seven-tonner ?" "With a couple of Cornish lads for a crew.

Oh, it was glorious! A fortnight right out in the open, with no worries, no letters, no callers, no petty thoughts, nothing but the grand works of God, the tossing sea and the great silent sky.

They talk of riding, indeed, I am fond of horses, too, but what is there to compare with the swoop of a little craft as she pitches down the long steep side of a wave, and then the quiver and spring as she is tossed upwards again?
Oh, if our souls could transmigrate I'd be a seamew above all birds that fly! But I keep you, Admiral.

Adieu!" The old sailor was too transported with sympathy to say a word.

He could only shake her broad muscular hand.