the Colleen on the railway
to-day, because maybe in Gloucester I may have to wait--or may get no
chance at all--with half a dozen or more that will be waiting to be
scrubbed for the race. And who comes along then but Tom Lowrie.
'Waiting for me?' he asks, and I tells him I was hoping it would be
the new Whalen vessel. 'Here's one that's as good as any Whalen
vessel,' he says--'as good as anything out of Boston--or Gloucester,'
he says. So across the Bay we had it out. And, gentlemen, I'm telling
you the Colleen sailed--all the wind she wanted. She came along, and
Lowrie--by the looks of things then--he's sailing yet. Well, I never
did like that forem'st that was in the Colleen, and so, thinks I,
here's a chance to test it--and why not, with the race coming on? So I
jibed her over off Minot's just--and sure enough it cracked about ten
feet below the mast-head."

"You were satisfied then, Tom?"

"Sure and I was. And better before the race than in the race. And next
day--that's to-day--we spent putting in a new stick. I had to take
what I could get to save time, and I don't think it's what it ought to
be and maybe it won't last through to-morrow. But, anyway, you want to
have an eye out for the Colleen to-morrow, for I'm telling you I never
see her sail like she did yesterday coming across the Bay. Ask Tom
Lowrie next time you see him. Well, to-night I had to beat down here
to be sure and be here in time, and so out we put--and here I am.
Blowing? Indeed and it is. And thick, is it? Standing on her
knight-heads and looking aft you c'd no more than make out her
side-lights. We came along, and Boston inner and outer harbor crowded
with vessels, steamers and sail, waiting for it to moderate so they
c'd put out. A blessed wonder it was we didn't sink somebody--or
ourselves. Outside we went along by smell, I think, for only every
once in awhile could we see a light. One time we almost ran into
something--a fisherman it must have been, for I s'pose only a
fisherman would be going in on a night like this--out of a squall of
snow and blackness she came--man alive! but, whoever she was, she was
coming a great clip. Winged out and we didn't see her till the end of
her bowsprit caught the end of our main-boom--hauled in we were to two
blocks--and over we went on the other tack--yes, sir, over on the
other tack. Thinks I, ''Tis a new way to jibe a vessel over.' And the
end of her fore-boom all but swept me from beside the wheel and