"

"You should have been a poet, Jerry," observed the mate, in a
contemplative tone, as he surveyed the shipping through his telescope.

"Just what I've often thought mesilf, sir," replied Jerry, wiping his
forehead with the bunch of waste--"many a time I've said to mesilf, in a
thoughtful mood--

"Wan little knows what dirty clo'es
May kiver up a poet;
What fires may burn an' flout an' skurn,
An' no wan iver know it."

"That's splendid, Jerry; but what's the meanin' of `skurn?'"

"Sorrow wan of me knows, sir, but it conveys the idee somehow; don't it,
now?"

"I'm not quite sure that it does," said the mate, walking aft and
consulting his chronometer for the last time, after which he put his
head down the hatchway and shouted, "Up lights!" in a deep sonorous
voice.

"Ay, ay, sir," came the ready response from below, followed by the
prompt appearance of the other lamplighter and the four seamen who
composed the crew of the vessel Jerry turned on his heel, murmuring, in
a tone of pity, that the mate, poor man, "had no soul for poethry."

Five of the crew manned the winch; the mate and Jerry went to a
block-tackle which was also connected with the lifting apparatus. Then
the order to hoist was given, and immediately after, just as the sun
went down, the floating light went up,--a modest yet all-important
luminary of the night. Slowly it rose, for the lantern containing it
weighed full half a ton, and caused the hoisting chain and pulleys to
groan complainingly. At last it reached its destination at the head of
the thick part of the mast, but about ten or fifteen feet beneath the
ball. As it neared the top, Jerry sprang up the chain-ladder to connect
the lantern with the rod and pinion by means of which, with clockwork
beneath, it was made to revolve and "flash" once every third of a
minute.

Simultaneously with the ascent of the Gull light there arose out of the
sea three bright stars on the nor'-eastern horizon, and another star in
the south-west. The first were the three fixed lights of the lightship
that marked the North sandhead; the latter was the fixed light that
guarded the South sandhead. The Goodwin sentinels were now placed for
the night, and the commerce of the world might come and go, and pass
those dreaded shoals, in absolute security.

Ere long the lights of the shipping in the Downs were hung out, and one
by one the lamps on shore shone forth--those which marked the entrance
of R