but I reflected that the skipper knew his business, and so
tried to take it unconcernedly. Everybody around me was joking and
laughing--to think, I suppose, that we would soon be in.

A moment after that I went down to leeward. The sea was bubbling in
over her rail at the fore-rigging and I wanted to get the feel of it.
I got it. It is pretty shoal water on the bar at the mouth of the
Delaware River and quite a little sea on when it blows. One sea came
aboard. Somebody yelled and I saw it--but too late--and slap! over I
went--over the rail--big boots and oilskins I went down into the
roaring. For a second my head came up and I saw the vessel. Everybody
aboard was standing by. The skipper was whirling the spokes and the
vessel was coming around like a top. I never saw a vessel roll down so
far in all my life. I went under again and coming up heard a dull
shout. There was a line beside me. "Grab hold!" yelled somebody. No
need to tell me--I grabbed hold. It was the seine-boat's painter. The
Johnnie was still shooting and when the line tautened it came as near
to pulling my arms out of my shoulders as ever I want to have them
again. But I hung on. Then she came up, and they hauled the painter in
and gaffed me over the rail.

"You blankety blank fool!" roared Clancy, as soon as I stood
up--"don't you know any better? A fine thing we'd have to be
telegraphing home, wouldn't it? Are you all right now?"

"All right," I said, and felt pretty cheap.

While being hauled in, knowing that I was safe, I had been thinking
what a fine little adventure I'd have to tell when we got back to
Gloucester, but after Clancy got through with me I saw that there were
two ways to look at it. So I took my old place under the windward rail
and didn't move from there again till it was time to take sail off
her.

XII

THE FLEET RUNS TO HARBOR

Nearing the Breakwater we had more company. Other seiners, with boats
astern and dories on deck, were coming in; jumbo, jib, fore and reefed
mainsail generally, and all plunging gloriously with a harbor near at
hand.

For the next few hours of that morning any watcher in the lighthouse
on the Breakwater could have seen plenty of samples of clever
seamanship. At our time we were only one of a half-dozen at the
business of working around the jetty, some making for one end and some
for the other. There was a great trying of tacks and some plain
criticism of tactics and weatherly qualities. The