ith fear--or both; and that, you know, would make
him green. I've heard it said that it implies a comparison of men to
plants--very young ones, you know, that are just up, just born, as it
were, and have not had much experience of life, are green of course--but
I like my own definition best."

It may perhaps be scarcely necessary to remark that our hero was by no
means singular in this little preference of his own definition to that
of any one else!

"Well, and what does skulking mean, and shirking work?" persisted Ailie.

"It means hiding so as to escape duty, my little catechist; but--"

"Hallo! Glynn, Glynn Proctor," roared the first mate from the
deck--"where's that fellow? Skulking, I'll be bound. Lay aloft there
and shake out the foretopsail. Look alive."

"Ay, ay, sir," was the ready response as the men sprang to obey.

"There, you have it now, Ailie, explained and illustrated," cried Glynn,
starting up. "Here I am, at this minute in a snug, dry berth chatting
to you, and in half a minute more I'll be out on the end o' the foreyard
holding on for bare life, with the wind fit to tear off my jacket and
blow my ducks into ribbons, and the rain and spray dashing all over me
fit to blot me out altogether. There's a pretty little idea to turn
over in your mind, Ailie, while I'm away."

Glynn closed the door at the last word, and, as he had prophesied, was,
within half a minute, in the unenviable position above referred to.

The force of the squall was already broken, and the men were busy
setting close-reefed topsails, but the rain that followed the squall bid
fair to "blot them out," as Glynn said, altogether. It came down, not
in drops, but in masses, which were caught up by the fierce gale and
mingled with the spray, and hurled about and on with such violent
confusion, that it seemed as though the whole creation were converted
into wind and water, and had engaged in a war of extermination, the
central turmoil of which was the _Red Eric_.

But the good ship held on nobly. Although not a fast sailer she was an
excellent sea-boat, and danced on the billows like a sea-mew. The
squall, however, was not over. Before the topsails had been set many
minutes it burst on them again with redoubled fury, and the main-topsail
was instantly blown into ribbons. Glynn and his comrades were once more
ordered aloft to furl the remaining sails, but before this could be done
the foretopmast was carried away, and in