“The fellow shows a stout heart, and a warm battery,” observed the master, when the broadside of their enemy became visible, by this change in his position. “Six-and-twenty teeth, by my count! though the eye-teeth must be wanting, or he would never be so foolhardy as to brave Queen Anne’s Coquette in this impudent fashion! A prettily turned boat, Captain Ludlow, and one nimble enough in her movements. But look at his top-sails! Just like his character, sir, all hoist; and with little or no head to them. I’ll not deny but that the hull is well enough, for that is no more than carpenter’s work; but when it comes to the rig, or trim, or cut of a sail, how should a l’Orient or a Brest man understand what is comely? There is no equalling, after all, a good, wholesome, honest English top-sail; which is neither too narrow in the head, nor too deep in the hoist; with a bolt-rope of exactly the true size, robands and earings and bowlines that look as if they grew there, and sheets that neither nature nor art could alter to advantage. Here are these Americans, now, making innovations in ship-building, and in the sparring of vessels, as if anything could be gained by quitting the customs and opinions of their ancestors! Any man may see that all they have about them, that is good for anything, is English; while all their nonsense, and new-fangled changes, come from their own vanity.” “They get along, Master Trysail, notwithstanding,” returned the captain, who, though a sufficiently loyal subject, could not forget his birth-place; “and many is the time this ship, one of the finest models of Plymouth, has been bothered to overhaul the coasters of these seas. Here is the brigantine, that has laughed at us, on our best tack, and with our choice of wind.” “One cannot say where that brigantine was built, Captain Ludlow. It may be here, it may be there; for I look upon her as a nondescript, as old Admiral Top used to call the galliots of the north seas—but, concerning these new American fashions, of what use are they, I would ask, Captain Ludlow? In the first place, they are neither English nor French, which is as much as to confess they are altogether outlandish; in the second place, they disturb the harmony and established usages among wrights and sail-makers, and, though they may get along well enough now, sooner or later, take my word for it, they will come to harm. It is unreasonable to suppose that a new people can discover anything in the construction of a ship, that has escaped the wisdom of seamen as old—the Frenchman is cluing up his top-gallant-sails, and means to let them hang; which is much the same as condemning them at once,—and, therefore, I am of opinion that all these new fashions will come to no good.” “Your reasoning is absolutely conclusive, Master Trysail.” returned the captain, whose thoughts were differently employed. “I agree with you, it would be safer for the stranger to send down his yards.”