I am sicker of the sea than ever! Is the safety of a Christian man’s life, and soul maybe, of no more interest than to be gambled away by such a set of Dutch Bottoms with Asses’ heads on their shoulders! Oh! that the worthy Chairman and all the Underwriters of Lloyd’s were here present on this deck--the mere sight of the Skipper’s countenance there, with not so much meaning in it as a smoked pig’s face, for _that_ means to be eaten, would scare them from all sea-risks for ever! Thanks be to Heaven! yonder’s a sail. It makes straight towards us--they come aboard. A Pilot?--well said! Oh, honest, good, dear Pilot, as you love a distressed poor countryman--as you understand the compass and how rudders are turned--if you know what a rope’s end is,--take the biggest bit of a cable you can pick, and give yonder Dutch sea-calves a round dozen a piece; ’twill cost you no great pains, seeing they are tied up ready to your hand. Pish! never mind their offence; they have mutinied against themselves. Smite, and spare not. I will go ashore meanwhile, in your boat. Hollo there! help me down. Take heed to my footing. Catch me, all of you, in your arms. Now I am in. No, I an’t! I an’t! I an’t! If ye had not hauled me in again with that same boat-hook, I was drown’d. My shoulder bleeds for it, but I forgive. Never heed me: look to your helms and sails. ’Tis only a gallon or two of sea-water, just swallowed, that is indisposed to go on shore with me. I am used to it, indeed I am. Pray, what is the name of this blessed boat? The Lively Nancy. Lively indeed! The Jung Vrouw was a Quakeress to her! At every jump she takes, my heart leaps also. Pray, pray, pray take in some canvas. You think you be sailing, but you are committing suicide. They mind me no more than stones. Oh! oh! I am out of Danger’s frying-pan into its fire! Peter Stuckey will be a murtherer after all! What a set of dare-devils! They grin like baboons whilst she is driving with half her deck under water! I will shut mine eyes and hold fast by something. I am worse than ever. I give myself up. Oh! oh! what an awful roaring, hissing, grinding noise we are come into! The bottom of the sea is coming out, or else the bottom of the boat! Hah! Help! help! I am heels upward! Why did not some kindly soul forewarn me that she was going to stop short on the beach? Stand all aside, and let me leap upon the sand. Ah! I have made my nose spout gore in my over-haste to kiss my native land! [Illustration: “WHY DON’T YOU LOOK OUT FOR WORK?”]