"Those are pigs, missy." "I don't believe it," cried the young lady in a pet, putting up her shoulders in high disdain.

"You're only making fun of me!" "Hush, dearie, you mustn't be rude," said Mrs Gilmour reprovingly; "but sure, Captain, you shouldn't make game of the child." "I assure you, I'm not doing so, ma'am," he protested, chuckling though still with much enjoyment.

"I've only told her the simple truth.

They _are_ pigs, sea-pigs if you like, commonly called porpoises.

But, whales, by Jove, that's a good joke, ho-ho-ho!" This time Nellie laughed too, the old sailor seemed to enjoy her mistake with such gusto; and, harmony being thus restored, they all turned to watch the graceful motions of the animals that had caused the discussion, which, swimming abreast of the vessel, were ever and anon darting across her bows and playing round her, describing the most beautiful curves as they dived under each other, apparently indulging in a game of leap-frog.
The _Bembridge Belle_ was now just about midway between Southsea and Seaview, and close upon the buoy marking the spot where the old _Marie Rose_, the first big ship of our embryo navy, sank in the reign of bluff King Hal, in an action she had with a French squadron that attempted entering the Solent with the idea of capturing the Isle of Wight.