"Whether he was waiting for what I'd to say, or thinking of something just occurred to him, was doubtful: he still gazed steadily at me, without saying a word; so I went on. 'You must know I had an old uncle who was long in His Majesty's Royal Navy, and if there was one point he was crazy upon, 'twas just this very matter of currents--though, for my part, Mr Finch, I really never understood what he meant till I made a voyage. He used to tell my mother, poor woman--who always fancied they had somewhat to do with puddings--that he'd seen no less than half-a-dozen ships go on shore, owing to currents. Now, Jane, he'd say, when you're fairly in a current, never you try to cross out of it, as folks often do, _against_ the run of it, for in that case, unless the wind's strong enough, why, instead of striking the eddy to take your craft right off-shore, it'll just set you over and over to the _inside_. You'll cross, in the end, no doubt--but ten to one it's exactly where the water begins to shoal; whereas, the right plan's as simple as daylight, and that's why so few know it! Look ye, he'd say, always you cross _with_ the stream--no matter though your head seems to make landward; why, the fact is, it'll just set you outside of itself, clear into its own bight, when you can run off to seaward with the eddy, if ye choose. _That's_ the way to cross a current, my uncle used to say, provided you've but a light wind for handling her with! Now, Mr Finch,' added I, coolly, and still mouthing my stick as before--for I couldn't help wishing to give the conceited fellow a rub, while I lent him a hint--'for my own part, I can't know much of these things, but it _does_ seem to me as if my uncle's notions pretty well suited the case in hand!'