I was born at Poole.

My people were all in the seafaring line, and it was only natural that, as soon as I got old enough to stand kicking, I was put on board a coaster plying between Poole and London.

It was pretty rough, but the skipper wasn't a bad kind of fellow when he was sober.

I stuck to that for three years, and then the old craft was wrecked on Shoreham beach.

Fortunately she was driven up so far that we were able to drop over the bowsprit pretty well beyond the reach of the waves, but there was no getting the Eliza off.