trimmed sails properly on board the old _Orion_, sir,' or some such complimentary remark to our much-enduring first. The boatswain has a dog--a favourite with the men--which goes by the no uncommon name of Shakings. The commander detests Shakings, who he unjustly declares worries his sheep. One evening poor Shakings fell overboard. The men were in despair, knowing that the commander would not dream of heaving-to to pick him up. I saw what had occurred, and was going to intercede for the dog when I heard a voice from forward sing out, `One of the captain's pigs overboard--there he goes astern.' The commander ran to the taffrail. Just then there was a splash, and as I looked over the side I saw one of his sleek pigs swimming as fast it could away from the ship. The commander soon caught sight of his favourite. The ship was hove-to, a boat lowered, and the boatswain, who jumped into her and managed to pick up the dog before he reached the other animal, avowed roundly that Shakings had jumped overboard to save the pig." Jack and Terence laughed heartily at Murray's account of his commander, given as it was with all the gravity imaginable. "Well, we bear with him as best we can," he added, "and only hope that he may ere long return to the bosom of his family, and to the congenial pursuits which occupy his thoughts." A light breeze springing up compelled Murray and his companions to return to their ship. That night during the middle watch Tom and Gerald, who were fast asleep in their hammocks, were aroused by the boatswain's shrill pipe and gruff voice bawling, "All hands on deck-- shorten sail!" They turned out with the rest; most of the officers and crew were on deck before they reached it. The frigate, caught in a squall, was heeling over till her lee-scuppers were under water, while dark, foam-crested seas came rolling up, deluging her deck fore and aft. The fore-topgallant-mast had been carried away, and was striking against the fore-topsail, ready to sweep to destruction the hands who were swarming on the yard; the main and mizen-topgallant-sheets had been let fly, and the sails were flapping wildly in the gale; while the wind whistling through the rigging--ropes slashing about--the seas dashing-- the bulkheads creaking--the masts and spars groaning, created a perfectly deafening uproar. Then came a clap like thunder--the foretack had parted, and the block striking a seaman had carried him overboard. To attempt to pick him up was useless--he must have been killed instantaneously. For a moment there was confusion; but the voice of the captain, heard above all other sounds, quickly restored order. While the topmen were clearing away the wreck of the fore-topgallant-mast, the most dangerous task, handing the main and mizen-topgallant-sails, and reefing topsails, the courses were hauled up, and the frigate righting flew forward on her course. The sudden movement threw Tom and Gerald,