"When morning broke, you may be sure we eagerly looked out for the ship, but she was nowhere to be seen. `Then, lads,' exclaimed the mate, in a cheerful voice, `what we have now to do is to steer for the island I have been telling Mr Dicey about. No fear as to getting there, and we may live like Robinson Crusoe, the lords of all we survey, till some craft comes by to take us off, and then we can go or not as we have a mind to do.' `Hurra for Trinidada,' shouted the men, inquiring of the mate what sort of a place it was. As the wind was right aft, we rigged the square-sail with the boathook as a yard, and though the sea was still running pretty heavily, we calculated that we were making a good six knots an hour. The mate advised the men to take a reef in their belts when they felt hungry. `Ay, ay, sir,' answered Tom, laughing, `it's the best way to keep hunger out, when there happens to be no plum-dough to stow aboard.' `I wonder who will have ours,' exclaimed another of the men. `I'll lay anything Dick Handspike does his best to get my share.' Thus the men joked and laughed as if we were not in the middle of the Atlantic, with a fearful probability of being starved to death. Bill Windy assured us that we should make the island by noon the following day, whispering to me, however, that he had hopes of reaching it by dawn, and we all made up our minds for another supperless night at sea. I had little notion before what were the actual sensations of thirst and hunger. I could not help thinking of your remark, Mrs Clagget, to me a short time ago, and wished that a covey of flying-fish would come on board. Some of the men had begun to scrape the broken pieces of the oar, and chew the wood to stop the gnawing of hunger. Another night, we all felt, would be very trying. The day wore on, and though we had kept a bright look-out on either side, no sail had been sighted. Believing that if I could get to sleep, I might better endure the pangs of hunger, I at length threw myself down in the bottom of the boat, and had been dozing away, though still conscious of where I was, when I heard a shout of `Sail, ahoy!' We were all sitting up in a moment, and saw, on the port bow, the topgallant sails of a ship rising above the horizon. She was standing to the northward. We bore away and rapidly neared her. As we approached, she altered her course still more for us. We were seen, and had now every hopes of getting on board. At length she hove to, and we were quickly alongside. She was an American whaler, homeward bound. The captain received us with the greatest kindness; our boat was hoisted up; and while Windy and I were entertained in the cabin, the men were hospitably treated by the crew forward. Although we were no longer in danger of starving, I could not help still thinking of the grief you, my sisters, were suffering on my account, and wishing that some aerial telegraph existed among the