presently,
when we get abreast of that tanned-sailed fishing-boat there off the
port bow, and then, Walter, you can head her right out of the harbour.
Let her go south-east-by-east, and we'll about fetch in ten miles as
nice a bank for cod and halibut as there is off the coast. It is a
small spot to get on nicely, and difficult to drop on often in just the
right place; but it's no riddle to me, and if this breeze freshens a
bit, as I think it will with the young flood, you can get out your lines
in about one hour. So now let's have breakfast--the little
rear-admiral, you know, had his long ago."

Yes--and the consequential Ugly was occupying a comfortable seat right
under the jib, and only turned his head the least bit when he heard the
Captain's mention of him.

"Keep her full now, Walter, ready to go about. Let go the jib-sheet,
Bob; and now, down with your helm, Walter!"

The mainsail flapped twice. By that time the foresail had filled on the
other tack. The cutter went about like a dancer on her heel, and we
were off on the other tack, standing out of the harbour for the open sea
ahead.

Then, the breakfast having been got out of the cuddy in the meanwhile,
and arranged for our onset by Drake, we seized cups, knives and forks,
and were soon very busy.

What a glorious thing to remember and marvel at, and wish back again, is
a boy's appetite. And if any good old fellow is reading, who is not
ashamed to recall those best of days--boyhood days--who is not ashamed
to recall them, aye, with pride and smiles, let him think now of the
suppers after Saturday tramps, of the Christmas and Michaelmas dinners,
and of meals like that I am describing, when, after two hours in the
early morning air, bowling along in our cutter, the sea-breeze swelling
out our lungs as it did the sails, with merry hearts and perfect
digestions, we found real fun--true animal happiness--in good bread and
butter, a leg of cold mutton, and a cup of coffee. And to see the best
of good skippers--as our dear old salt tute was--let himself down in a
right angle after that on the deck, his back against the weather-side of
the mast, and, heaving a sigh of vast internal satisfaction, draw out
his pipe slowly, as if it was a ceremony too precious to be hurried,
and, having put it just right in his lips and lighted it, puff the first
long sweet wreaths of smoke; ah! that was a picture of creature
happiness.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

GOOD SPORT--AN