A sham sailor-The Macaroni frigate-Captain Forecastle-Ben Bowline-The tobacco box-The impostor-Being at sea—. Sharks, whales, porpoises, and flying-fish-A burning mountain-Storms, icebergs, whirlpools, water-spouts, mountains, waterfalls. "O CAPTAIN, if you had but been ten minutes sooner, you would have seen a sailor!" "Should I, boys! Many are the blue-jackets that I have seen in my time, on the coast and at sea, outward and homeward bound, on a cruise and in harbour, weighing the anchor, reefing the sails, bracing the yards, manning the capstan, and running out the guns. It would be no new thing to the old sea Captain to see a sailor. But what sort of a hand was he?" "Oh, a true sailor all over. did not see him!" What a pity that you "But how do you know that he was a sailor, boys? for I told you that land pirates are always cruizing about, under false colours, to pick up any craft that may happen to sail in the same latitude. Did he get any prizemoney?" "Oh yes! We all gave him a penny a piece; for we knew that he was a real sailor." "Did you hail him? What colours did he carry? What port did he come from? and where was he bound?" "He was dressed in an old blue jacket and trousers, with three or four holes in them, and a black silk handkerchief round his neck; and he told us he had been shipwrecked, and was walking from Hull to London, to get another ship." "He must have been sadly out of his reckoning then, for he had no more business here than at Salisbury Plain; but the wind blows hard sometimes, and drives a ship out of her course. Did you overhaul his log? What did he say to you?" Mess "At first, we thought he might be an impostor: but we soon knew better when he began to talk. mates,' says he, when he came up, Messmates! poor Jack has been wrecked, and he's no shot in the locker. The land lubbers won't help him.' And then he pulled out a box, without a lid, and asked us to have ‘a bit o' 'bacco,' and talked something about shivering his timbers,' and 'splicing the main-brace; so then we knew he must be a sailor.' “Ah! ah! ah! But did he tell you the ship he belonged to?" 66 Oh, yes: he said it was the Macaroni frigate, of thirty-six guns, Captain Forecastle; and that the ship went down in the chops of the channel.". "He might as well have told you that he was blown up in the Prince, or that he was one of the hands that went down in the Royal George. I never heard yet of such a frigate as the Macaroni in the British navy, and Captain Forecastle is a captain of his own making. How could he be working his way from Hull in the north, if he was wrecked in the chops of the channel in the south. Oh, boys! boys! you have fell in with a pirate, and now I will tell you a little more about him. 66 Why, what do you know about him, Captain? Have you seen him? Did you meet with him?" "I did, boys; and he won't come across my course again, if he can help it. I saw him first with my spyglass; and when he neared me, I was just about to hail him with, Hoa! the ship ahoay! Whence come ye? What port are you bound to?' But, thinks I, No; let us see what sort of a craft he is! Let him speak for himself. Presently, he came alongside, and spun me just such a yarn about the Macaroni as he spun for P 6 you. He told me all about poor Jack being wrecked, and having no shot in the locker,' and shivered his timbers,' two or three times over; which, by the way, is not a right sea phrase, but a way of speaking that too many sailors practise; and he asked me to splice the main-brace for him." "And did he pull out his box, and ask you to have 6 a bit o' 'bacco?"" How do you sailors "He did, indeed, boys; and then it was that I took the liberty to make a few inquiries. What's your name?' says I. He said it was 'Ben Bowline.' 'Do you know what the main-sheet is?' Yes, messmate,' says he; 'the main-sheet is the main-sail.' Now, a sheet happens to be a rope, and not a sail; so by that I knew at once what sort of a sailor he was. sweep the anchor, at sea,' says I. says he. It was very clear, boys, that he had never mounted a companion ladder in his life; so then I told him that I happened to be an old sea captain, and that I knew the name and the use of every mast, timber, yard, sail, tackle, stay, brace, and rope's end, from the figure-head to the rudder, from the keel to the maintop-gallant-mast-head. You and I must compare logs, messmate,' said I; but he began to close-haul, and I soon saw that he was set on a run afore the wind." 66 Why, then, he was not a sailor, after all!" "A sailor! he would make a better tailor than a sailor, any day of the year: but I question if he'd do good at any honest calling, boys. Seeing him look sulky, I fired a gun to bring him to. I wanted to get at him yard-arm and yard-arm, but it did not suit him; he was rather for sailing alone than in company. I then fired off a broadside of sea-phrases at once; and so raked him with my long-tackle blocks, clew garnets, down-jib and stay-sails, hag's-teeth, futtock-shrouds, iron-garters, shackles, sheathing, and double neck-nails, that the pirate hauled down his colours, and sheered off under press of sail. I thought he was for cruizing in a cooler latitude; but it seems, that falling in with you young craft, he made a prize, after all." "What a rogue he must be! We should never have found him out.' 66 6 May be not, boys; but he would have been none the better for that. Never sail under false colours. What does the book of Job say: The hypocrite's hope shall perish: whose hope shall be cut off, and whose trust shall be a spider's web,' chap. viii. 13, 14. And, again, What is the hope of the hypocrite, though he hath gained, when God taketh away his soul ?" " chap. xxvii. 8. 66 Ay, that rogue was a sad hypocrite! he will be found out, and, perhaps, put into prison." 66 Very like, boys. See, in his haste to get clear of the old sea Captain, he dropped the lid of his tobaccobox. I sang out after him with my speaking-trumpet; but the louder I hailed him, the more sail he made. So now, boys, if you have any shot in the locker to help out poor Jack, wrecked in the Macaroni, Captain Forecastle-if you are not land-lubbers, but are ready to bear a hand in helping me on my way from Hull to London, |