eeling inclined, and being averse to spirits, I rejected it,
"Not just now," said I, "by-and-by perhaps."

During the time of this conversation we were swept by a strong tide and
strong wind right out of the anchorage at Spithead; the sea was very
high, and dashed into the boat, so that I was continually baling to keep
it free; the night was as dark as pitch; we could see nothing except the
lights of the vessels which we had left far away from us, and they were
now but as little twinkles as we rose upon the waves. The wind roared,
and there was every appearance of a heavy gale.

"Little hopes of our weathering this storm," said the woman; "we shall
soon be swamped if we do not put her before the wind. I'll see if I
cannot find the lines."

She did so after a time, and by means of a rudder put the boat before
the wind; the boat then took in much less water, but ran at a swift rate
through the heavy sea.

"There, we shall do better now; out to sea we go, that's clear," said
the woman; "and before daylight we shall be in the Channel, if we do not
fill and go down; and then, the Lord have mercy upon us, that's all!
Won't you take a drop?" continued she, pouring out some spirits into the
can.

As I felt very cold, I did not this time refuse. I drank a small
quantity of the spirits; the woman took off the remainder, which, with
what she had previously drunk, began to have an effect upon her.

"That's right, my little Trojan," said she, and she commenced singing.
"A long pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogether; in spite of wind and
weather, boys, in spite of wind and weather. Poor Jem," continued she,
"he'll be disappointed; he made sure of being glorious to-night, and I
made sure to sleep by his side--now he'll be quite sober--and I'll be
food for fishes; it's a cold bed that I shall turn into before morning,
that's certain. Hand me the cakes, boy, if you can fumble them out; the
more we fill ourselves, the less room for salt water. Well, then, wind
and waves are great bullies; they fly slap back in a fright when they
bang against a great ship; but when they get hold of a little boat like
this, how they leap and topple in, as if they made sure of us [here a
wave dashed into the boat]. Yes, that's your sort. Come along, swamp a
little boat you washy cowards, it's only a woman and a boy. Poor Jim,
he'll miss me something, but he'll miss the liquor more; who cares?
Let's have another drop."

"Give me the line