"Why you clapped a stopper over all on me this morning, and now you've got one on yourself." "Well, then, take off mine, and I'll take off yours." "If I unlock your leg, you'll unlock the cupboard?" "Yes." "And you promise me a _stiff one_ after dinner?" "Yes, yes, as stiff as I stand here." "No, that will be too much, for it would _set me fast_. I only like it about half-and-half, as I took it just now." Tom, who was aware that his father would adhere to his agreement, immediately went to his assistance, and throwing out some of the upper bricks, released him from his confinement. When old Tom was once more on deck and on his legs, he observed, "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good. The _loss_ of my leg has been the _saving_ of you many a time, Mr Tom." It was now time to anchor, as we were meeting the flood. Tom, who officiated as cook, served up the dinner, which was ready; and we were all very pleasant; Tom treating his father with perfect confidence. As we had not to weigh again for some hours, our repast was prolonged, and old Tom, having fulfilled his promise to his son of a _stiff one_, took one or two himself, and became very garrulous. "Come, spin us a good yarn, father; we've nothing to do, and Jacob will like to hear you." "Well, then, so I will," answered he; "what shall it be about?" "Fire and water, of course," replied Tom. "Well, then, I'll tell you something about both, since you wish it; how I came into his Majesty's sarvice, through _fire_, and how the officer who pressed me went out of it through _water_. I was still 'prentice, and wanted about three months to sarve my time, when, of course, I should no longer be protected from sarving the king, when the ship I was in sailed up the Baltic with a cargo of bullocks. We had at least two hundred on board, tied up on platforms on every deck, with their heads close to the sides, and all their sterns looking in-board. They were fat enough when they were shipped, but soon dwindled away: the weather was very bad, and the poor creatures rolled against each other, and slipped about in a way that it pitied you to see them. However, they were stowed so thick, that they held one another up, which proved of service to them in the heavy gales which tossed the ship about like a pea in a rattle. We had joined a large convoy, and were entering the Sound, when, as usual, it fell calm, and out came the Danish gunboats to attack us. The men-of-war who had charge of the convoy behaved nobly; but still they were becalmed, and many of us were a long way astern. Our ship was pretty well up; but she was too far in-shore; and the Danes made a dash at us with the hope of making a capture. The men-of-war, seeing what the enemy were about, sent boats to beat them off; but it was too late to prevent them boarding, which they did. Not wishing to peep through the bars of the gaol at Copenhagen, we left the ship in our