Willis's ship was always a favourite; and as soon almost as she was
announced to sail, her cabins were engaged. I should advise those who
go to sea at the age Captain Willis did, to follow his example; though
for a very young boy, the school, I grant, is somewhat too rough a one.

CHAPTER THREE.

Captain Willis was walking the deck, with his spy-glass in his hand,
while every now and then he stopped anxiously to scan the horizon in
every direction, in the hopes of discerning the well-known signs of the
long-wished-for breeze.

"Well, Captain Willis, when is the wind coming?" asked one of the young
ladies of the merry group I have described, as he passed them in his
walk. "We have agreed that you sailors are very idle people, not to
make your ship move faster. You do it on purpose, we are sure, to enjoy
our society."

"The temptation would be great, ladies, I own," said the captain,
bowing. "But, I assure you, it depends as much upon yourselves as upon
me and my officers; and, I think, if you were all to set to work and
whistle with a right good-will, you might soon bring the wind down upon
us."

"Oh then we will all try," exclaimed the merry girls in chorus. "We see
you want to get rid of us as soon as you can." Thereon they all began
to try and whistle, and some succeeded very well, though the chorus was
not very harmonious.

I suspect the worthy captain had long before perceived the undoubted
signs of wind on the water, for there was a quizzical look in his eye as
he spoke; and each turn he made he encouraged them to proceed, and to
whistle louder and louder, assuring them it was certain to have a good
effect.

Not many minutes had passed, during which the young ladies had tried to
whistle till their mouths ached, when the voice of Captain Willis was
heard ordering the crew to trim sails. With alacrity they flew to their
posts at the joyful sound; and those who but a minute before were so
silent and inert, were now all life and animation.

Still the ocean appeared as smooth and shining as before; but in the
distance, away to the north-east, there was a line of dark-blue, which
seemed to be gradually extending itself on either hand, and to be slowly
advancing in the direction where the ship lay. The glassy surface of
the water was every now and then slightly ruffled by gentle, scarcely
perceptible breaths of wind, such as are called by seamen "cats'-paws,"
from their having, I suppose, no more eff