ace--they divided his blessing and his large fortune--and thus
ends our history of THE PIRATE!

THE THREE CUTTERS

CHAPTER I

CUTTER THE FIRST

Reader, have you ever been at Plymouth? If you have, your eye must have
dwelt with ecstasy upon the beautiful property of the Earl of Mount
Edgcumbe: if you have not been at Plymouth, the sooner that you go there
the better. At Mount Edgcumbe you will behold the finest timber in
existence, towering up to the summits of the hills, and feathering down
to the shingle on the beach. And from this lovely spot you will witness
one of the most splendid panoramas in the world. You will see--I hardly
know what you will not see--you will see Ram Head, and Cawsand Bay; and
then you will see the Breakwater, and Drake's Island, and the Devil's
Bridge below you; and the town of Plymouth and its fortifications, and
the Hoe; and then you will come to the Devil's Point, round which the
tide runs devilish strong; and then you will see the New Victualling
Office--about which Sir James Gordon used to stump all day, and take a
pinch of snuff from every man who carried a box, which all were
delighted to give, and he was delighted to receive, proving how much
pleasure may be communicated merely by a pinch of snuff; and then you
will see Mount Wise and Mutton Cove; the town of Devonport, with its
magnificent dockyard and arsenals, North Corner, and the way which leads
to Saltash. And you will see ships building and ships in ordinary; and
ships repairing and ships fitting; and hulks and convict ships, and the
guardship; ships ready to sail and ships under sail; besides lighters,
men-of-war's boats, dockyard-boats, bumboats, and shore-boats. In short,
there is a great deal to see at Plymouth besides the sea itself: but
what I particularly wish now is, that you will stand at the Battery of
Mount Edgcumbe and look into Barn Pool below you, and there you will
see, lying at single anchor, a cutter; and you may also see, by her
pendant and ensign, that she is a yacht.

Of all the amusements entered into by the nobility and gentry of our
island there is not one so manly, so exciting, so patriotic, or so
national as yacht-sailing. It is peculiar to England, not only from our
insular position and our fine harbours, but because it requires a
certain degree of energy and a certain amount of income rarely to be
found elsewhere. It has been wisely fostered by our sovereigns, who have
felt that the