And only the sun's warm fire
Stirs softly their happy breast.
On, and on, and ever on!
God next!

THE SOUTH BREAKER.

IN TWO PARTS.

PART I.

Just a cap-full of wind, and Dan shook loose the linen, and a straight
shining streak with specks of foam shot after us. The mast bent like
eel-grass, and our keel was half out of the water. Faith belied her
name, and clung to the sides with her ten finger-nails; but as for me, I
liked it.

"Take the stick, Georgie," said Dan, suddenly, his cheeks white. "Head
her up the wind. Steady. Sight the figurehead on Pearson's loft. Here's
too much sail for a frigate."

But before the words were well uttered, the mast doubled up and coiled
like a whip-lash, there was a report like the crack of doom, and half of
the thing crashed short over the bows, dragging the heavy sail in the
waves.

Then there came a great laugh of thunder close above, and the black
cloud dropped like a curtain round us: the squall had broken.

"Cut it off, Dan! quick!" I cried. "Let it alone," said he, snapping
together his jack-knife; "it's as good as a best bower-anchor. Now I'll
take the tiller, Georgie. Strong little hand," said he, bending so that
I didn't see his face. "And lucky it's good as strong. It's saved us
all.--My God, Georgie! where's Faith?"

I turned. There was no Faith in the boat. We both sprang to our feet,
and so the tiller swung round and threw us broadside to the wind, and
between the dragging mast and the centre-board drowning seemed too good
for us.

"You'll have to cut it off," I cried again; but he had already ripped
half through the canvas and was casting it loose.

At length he gave his arm a toss. With the next moment, I never shall
forget the look of horror that froze Dan's face.

"I've thrown her off!" he exclaimed. "I've thrown her off!"

He reached his whole length over the boat, I ran to his side, and
perhaps our motion impelled it, or perhaps some unseen hand; for he
caught at an end of rope, drew it in a second, let go and clutched at a
handful of the sail, and then I saw how it had twisted round and swept
poor little Faith over, and she had swung there in it like a dead
butterfly in a chrysalis. The lightnings were slipping down into the
water like blades of fire everywhere around us, with short, sharp
volleys of thunder, and the waves were more than I ever rode this side
of the bar before or since, and we too