the
doctor's two dogs, and Mr. Migott and Mr. Jollins, all huddled together
in a fussy state of expectation, midway on the jetty, seeing nothing,
doing nothing, and being very much in the way--and then wonder, as we
wondered, at the marvellous dexterity of our three valiant sailors, who
succeeded in transporting piecemeal the crockery, cookery, and general
contents of the cart into the vessel, on that pitchy night, without
breaking, dropping, or forgetting anything. When I hear of professional
conjurors performing remarkable feats, I think of the brothers Dobbs,
and the loading of the Tomtit in the darkness; and I ask myself if any
landsman's mechanical legerdemain can be more extraordinary than the
natural neat-handedness of a sailor?

The next morning the sky was black, the wind was blowing hard against
us, and the waves were showing their white frills angrily in the offing.
A double row of spectators had assembled at the jetty, to see us beat
out of the bay. If they had come to see us hanged, their grim faces
could not have expressed greater commiseration. Our only cheerful
farewell came from the doctor and his friend and the two dogs. The
remainder of the spectators evidently felt that they were having a last
long stare at us, and that it would be indecent and unfeeling, under the
circumstances, to look happy. Produce me a respectable inhabitant of an
English country town, and I will match him, in the matter of stolid and
silent staring, against any other man, civilized or savage, over the
whole surface of the globe.

If we had felt any doubts of the sea-going qualities of the Tomtit, they
would have been solved when we "went about," for the first time, after
leaving the jetty. A livelier, stiffer, and drier little vessel of her
size never was built. She jumped over the waves, as if the sea was a
great play-ground, and the game for the morning, Leap-Frog. Though the
wind was so high that we were obliged to lower our foresail, and to
double-reef the mainsail, the only water we got on board was the spray
that was blown over us from the tops of the waves. In the state of the
weather, getting down Channel was out of the question. We were obliged
to be contented, on this first day of our voyage, with running across to
the Welsh coast, and there sheltering ourselves--amid a perfect fleet of
outward-bound merchantmen driven back by the wind--in a snug roadstead,
for the afternoon and the night.

This delay, which might