s sweetly and quietly up to the yard,
without giving a single flap. After which the weather-clew comes up
almost of itself, and without risk or trouble.

Meanwhile the ship is spinning along very nearly at the same rate as
at first, though two-thirds of the canvas have been taken off her.
These variations in speed are odd enough, and, at times, not easily
accounted for. When the breeze first comes on, all sail set, and the
water quite smooth, the ship can be steered on a straight course
without any difficulty, and she really seems to fly. When the log is
hove, it is discovered, we shall suppose, that she is going eleven
knots. Well, the wind increases, and in come the studding-sails; but
as the water is still smooth, the single-reefed topsails and
top-gallant-sails may be carried, though it is evident the ship is
rather over-pressed, or, at all events, not another stitch of sail
could be set.

"Heave the log again, and see what she goes now!" says the officer.
"How much?"

"Eleven knots and a-half, sir," replies the middy of the watch.

Presently the sea rises, the masts bend, the ship begins to stagger
along, groaning and creaking in every joint, under the severe
pressure. The topsails are close-reefed to meet the increased wind;
but still, as before, she is under quite as much canvas as she can
possibly bear.

"Heave the log now!" again says the officer. "Ten knots!" reports the
middy.

By-and-bye the courses are reefed, and before dark the mainsail is
rolled up, the fore and mizen topsails handed, and the top-gallant
yards sent on deck. The sea has now risen to a disagreeable height,
and the steering, in spite of every care, becomes wilder and much more
difficult; and as the ship forges into the breast of the waves, or
rises with a surge not much less startling, her way seems deadened for
the moment, till she bounds up again on the top of the sea, to woo, as
it were, the embraces of the rattling gale. The storm is not slow to
meet this rude invitation; while, if the ropes, sails, and masts, be
all wet, as they generally are in such a breeze, it is difficult to
conceive any tones more gruff and unsentimental than the sounds of
this boisterous courtship.

In line-of-battle ships, and even in frigates, the close-reefed
main-topsail and foresail may be carried, for a very long time, when
going nearly before the wind; and indeed it is the best seamanship to
crack on her; for when the gale rises to its highest pi