The remainder of the passage home was uneventful. The next thing I remember was being at the wheel on a bitterly cold June morning, when we made the English land, and the feeling of exhilaration that it gave all hands was a thing to be remembered. Then the run up-Channel in company with many other vessels was a pure joy. The old man walked the poop snapping his fingers; as soon as we got the pilot off Dungeness, and a tug, we commenced to furl the canvas and put the finishing touches on the ship’s harbour toilet. Once in the London Docks the ship was soon deserted by the crew and left to the care of the apprentices, who were not supposed to have any desire to get away. It happened, however, on this occasion that Captain Hole was subjected to a raid by my sisters, chaperoned by that kind, gracious and beautiful lady, the late Mrs. G. E. Dering, whose wealthy and eccentric husband recently achieved posthumous fame as “The Hermit of Welwyn.” As they desired to take me away at once for at least six weeks the old man surrendered at discretion, and in all the glory of gilt buttons I was borne away. That brings to a close my maiden voyage, but one thing that struck me when I got home was the pleasure with which one remembered familiar details--even such insignificant things as old cracks in paving-stones. It seemed almost wonderful that one had been so far away and yet come back to find everything just the same, even to the same old boatmen lounging on the pier apparently in the same position they had occupied from one’s earliest recollections. CHAPTER II “’Twas all along of Poll, as I may say, That fouled my cable when I ought to slip.”--HOOD. It is doubtful whether, if left to his own devices, any boy would go a second voyage without a very considerable amount of hesitation. Indeed, a trip as far as the Downs quite satisfied the nautical aspirations of a certain friend of mine, who put to sea in the _Roxburgh Castle_ and left at the earliest possible moment. This was poor Will Terriss, whose tragic ending is still fresh in the memory of his many friends and countless admirers. My own brother also had nautical aspirations. He went from London to Newcastle to join a vessel as an apprentice. Unfortunately he went by sea, and the trip was amply sufficient to cure him, for he took train and came back home at once, without even having seen his ship. I must say this was nothing remarkable, for sea-sickness is such a sheer horror that people become indifferent to all surroundings, and are frequently so demoralised that they would hardly resist being thrown overboard. I have known a case where, touching at a port some days out, it has been necessary to land a lad to save his life, the sea affected him so terribly.