e ocean a mass of foam,
and with the wind howling and whistling as if eager to carry the masts
out of her, I was born. My poor mother had a heavy time of it, and it
was a mercy she did not die. But oftentimes delicate, fragile-looking
women go through far more than apparently strong and robust persons.
She had a fine spirit and patient temper, and what is more, she put a
firm trust in One who is all-powerful to save those who have faith in
him, both for this life and for eternity.

The brig was hove-to, and though more than once she narrowly escaped
being run down by ships coming up Channel, she finally reached Plymouth,
and my mother and I were landed in safety. Thus I may say that I have
been at sea from my earliest days. Old Mrs Wetherholm was delighted to
receive my poor mother and me, and took the very fondest care of us, as
did Aunt Bretta, while my father proceeded on his voyage.

Soon after this I was christened under a name which may sound somewhat
fine to southern ears, Willand Wetherholm; but, as will be seen, I did
not very long retain it.

My mother had another trial soon after this. My grandfather, John
Trevelyn, who had for some time been ailing, died and left her without
any relations that I ever heard of on his or her mother's side of the
house. Thus she became more than ever dependent on my father and his
mother and sister. She had no cause to regret this, however, for
kinder, gentler-hearted people never existed.

Two years more passed away, and I throve and grew strong and fat, and
what between grandmother, and mother, and aunt, ran a great chance of
being spoilt. My father had been so frightened about my mother before,
that he would never take her to sea again; but he often said that he
would endeavour, when he had laid by a little more money, to give it up
himself and to come and live with her on shore. It is a dream of
happiness in which many a poor sailor indulges, but how few are able to
realise! He was expected round at Plymouth, on his way to the
Mediterranean, but day after day passed and he did not arrive. My
mother began to grow very anxious, so did my grandmother and aunt. A
terrific gale had been blowing for some days, when the Eddystone was
nearly washed away, and fearful damage was done to shipping in various
parts.

At length the news reached them that the brig had put into Salcombe
range. It is a wild-looking yet land-locked harbour on the Devonshire
coast. Black r