W'en a man's got his first love, d'ye
see, an' finds as how she's all trim and ship-shape, and taut, and well
ballasted, and all that sort o' thing, stick to her to the last, through
thick and thin. That's wot _I_ say, d'ye see? There's no two ways
about it, for wot's right can't be wrong. If it can, show me how, and
then I'll knock under, but not before."

"Certainly not, Captain," cried Bax, laughing, "never give in--that's my
motto."

"There," said Bluenose, gravely, "you're wrong--'cause why? You're not
right, an' w'en a man's not right he ought always to give in."

"But how is a fellow to know when he's right and when he's wrong?" asked
Bax.

"Con-sideration," said Bluenose.

"Bravo! Captain," cried Guy, with a laugh, "if it be true that `brevity
is the soul of wit,' you must be the wittiest fellow on Deal beach."

"I dun-know," retorted the Captain, slowly, "whether it's the soul or
the body o' wit, an' wot's more, I don't care; but it's a fact, d'ye
see, that consideration'll do it; least-wise if consideration won't,
nothin' will. See now, here it is,"--(he became very earnest at this
point),--"w'en a thing puzzles people, wot does people do? why, they
begins right off to talk about it, an' state their opinions afore they
han't got no opinions to state. P'raps they takes the puzzler up by the
middle an' talks wild about that part of it; then they give a look at
the end of it, an' mayhap they'll come back and glance at the beginnin',
mayhap they won't, and then they'll tell you as grave as owls that
they've made up their minds about it, and so nail their colours to the
mast."

At this stage in the elucidation of the knotty point, Bluenose observed
that his pipe was going out, so he paused, pulled at it vigorously for a
few seconds, and then resumed his discourse.

"Now, lads, wot _ought_ you for to do w'en you've got hold of a puzzler?
Why, you ought to sit down and consider of it, which means you should
begin at the beginnin'; an' let me tell you, it's harder to find the
beginnin' of a puzzler than p'raps you suppose. Havin' found the
beginnin', you should look at it well, and then go on lookin', inch by
inch, and fut by fut, till you comes to the end of it; then look it
back, oncommon slow, to the beginnin' again, after which turn it outside
in, or inside out,--it don't much matter which way,--and go it all over
once more; after which cram your knuckles into yer two eyes, an' sit for
half-an-h