ated her fate, and not a little
amusement was created among her captors by an entry in her log of the
day after leaving Pernambuco:--"We have a tight, fast vessel, and we
don't care for Jeff. Davis!" "My unfortunate prisoner," remarks Captain
Semmes, "had holloa'd before he was out of the wood."

The journal continues:--

_Friday, September 27th._--This is my fifty-second birthday, and so the
years roll on, one by one, and I am getting to be an old man! Thank God,
that I am still able to render service to my country in her glorious
struggle for the right of self-government, and in defence of her
institutions, her property, and everything a people hold sacred. We have
thus far beaten the Vandal hordes that have invaded and desecrated our
soil; and we shall continue to beat them to the end. The just God of
Heaven, who looks down upon the quarrels of men, will avenge the right.
May we prove ourselves in this struggle worthy of Him and of our great
cause! My poor distressed family! How fondly my thoughts revert to them
to-day! My dear wife and daughters, instead of preparing the accustomed
"cake" to celebrate my birthday, are mourning my absence, and dreading
to hear of disaster. May our Heavenly Father console, cherish, and
protect them!

CHAPTER VI.

_A dull time--"Sail, oh-h-h!"--An exciting chase--No prize--A
gale--Jack's holiday--A new cruising-ground--Dead calm--An enlightened
Frenchman--A near thing--Patience!--The Daniel Trowbridge--A lucky
haul--In closer--Double Duns--The prize schooner's revenge--Good news
from home--An apology--In hopes of a fight--Disappointment--The West
India station--Another blank--Martinique_.

Another dull time now set in. On the 28th September the prize crew were
recalled from the Joseph Park, which, after doing duty for some hours
longer as a look-out ship, was finally at nightfall, set on fire, and
burned to the water's edge. And now day after day passed by, unrelieved
save by the little common incidents of a peaceful voyage.

One day it would be a flying-fish that had leaped on board, and paid the
penalty of its indiscretion by doing duty next morning on the captain's
breakfast-table; another day a small sword-fish performed a similar
exploit; while on a third a heavy rain provided the great unwashed of
the forecastle with the unaccustomed luxury of copious ablutions in
fresh water. But not a sail was to be seen. Once only a simultaneous cry
from half-a-dozen sailors of