ook! how dare you shove in your penny whistle! How's
tide, Tom?"

"Three quarters ebb."

"No, it a'n't, you thief; how is it Jacob?"

"About half, I think."

"And you're right."

"What water have we down here on the side?"

"You must give the point a wide berth," replied I; "the shoals runs
out."

"Thanky, boy, so I thought, but wasn't sure:" and then old Tom burst out
in a beautiful air:

"Trust not too much your own opinion,
When your vessel's under weigh,
Let good advice still bear dominion;
That's a compass will not stray."

"Old Tom, is that you?" hallooed a man from another barge.

"Yes; what's left of me, my hearty."

"You'll not fetch the bridges this tide--there's a strong breeze right
up the reaches below."

"Never mind, we'll do all we can.

"If unassailed by squall or shower,
Wafted by the gentle gales
Let's not lose the favouring hour,
While success attends our sails."

"Bravo, old Tom! why don't the boys get the lines out, for all the
fishes are listening for you," cried the man, as the barges were parted
by the wind and tide.

"I did once belong to a small craft called the Anon," observed old Tom,
"and they say as how the story was, that that chap could make the fish
follow him just when he pleased. I know that when we were in the North
Sea the shoals of seals would follow the ship if you whistled; but these
brutes have ears--now fish hav'n't got none.

"Oh well do I remember that cold dreary land,
here the northern light,
In the winter's night,
Shone bright on its snowy strand.

"Jacob, have you finished your breakfast? Here, take the helm, while I
and Tom put the craft a little into apple-pie order."

Old Tom then stumped forward, followed by his son and the Newfoundland
dog, who appeared to consider himself as one of the most useful
personages on board. After coiling down the ropes, and sweeping the
decks, they went into the cabin to make their little arrangements.

"A good lock that, Tom," cried the father, turning the key of the
cupboard. (I recollected it, and that its snapping so loud was the
occasion of my being tossed overboard.) Old Tom continued: "I say, Tom,
you won't be able to open that cupboard, so I'll put the sugar and the
grog into it, you scamp. It goes too fast when you're purser's steward.

"For grog is our larboard and starboard,
Our main-mast, our mizzen, our log,
On shore, or at sea, or when harbour'd,
The mari