peared again; but I
had caught hold of the child, and laid it down in the stern-sheets. We
made a second and third attempt, but in vain. At last the vessel broke
up, as it were, all at once--there was one loud cry, and all was still,
except the roaring and breaking waves which buried them. It wasn't a
scene to make us very lively, Tom: we hoisted the sail, and ran on to
the beach in silence. I took the child in my arms--it had been snatched
out of its warm bed, poor thing, and had nothing on but a calico night
gown. I took it up to the cottage, which was then Maddox's (I bought it
afterwards of the widow with the money I made a-privateering), and I
gave it in charge to Mrs Maddox. I did intend to have sent it to the
workhouse, or something of that sort; but Mrs Maddox took a fancy to
it, and so did I, and so I thought I would take care of it, and I
christened it by the name of Betsy Godwin."

"You have no idea who she may be?"

"Not a half one: her cotton gown and cap told nothing; the vessel was
Dutch, that's all I know. She may be the child of the Stadtholder or
the child of the ship's cook. What's the matter?"

"But did you notice any marks upon her person by which she might be
reclaimed?"

"Not I. I only axed Mrs Maddox whether it were a boy or a girl."

"How old was she then?"

"Well, how can I tell? that's not in my way; but the knowing ones in
these matters said that she must be about eighteen months old, so we
have taken that for a _departure_ as to her age. I love her now as if
she were my own child, and so will you, Tom, like, a sister, when you
know her. She calls me her father, and you may do the same, Tom, if you
like, for I will be as good as a father to you, if you are as good a boy
as you now seem to be. I like to be called father, somehow or another--
it sounds pleasant to my ears. But come in now, I think you have
compassed the compass, so you must learn something else.

"There is another way, Tom," said Bramble, as he seated himself in his
large chair, "in which a smart 'prentice may be useful to his master,
and it is of quite as much importance as the compass, which is in
heaving the lead. You see, Tom, the exact soundings being known will
often enable a pilot to run over the tail of a bank and save a tide;
that is, when he knows that he can trust the man in the chains. Some
seamen are very particular in giving exact soundings, but all are not;
they care more for the song than