quarter we braced the mainyard sharp up with the port-braces and bowsed the weather ones as taut as a harp string. ‘Now, then,’ says the old man, ‘never mind that trash for-ard, let that go; git a jumper on to the mainyard and a preventer main-topsail brace aloft; lay aloft for your lives, and clap preventer gaskets on everythin’ that’s furled; we’ll have it soon from the north’ard fit to take the masts out of her.’ He were right. In a short time there were a instant’s lull, and then with a roar that were almost deafenin’ came the cyclone from the north. Thanks to the old man’s sagacity and experience, howsever, he was a-headin’ sou’-south-east when it hit us, and it struck us right aft.

“‘Steady as you go,’ shouts the old man, and then, a minnit arter, as she gathered way, he say’s ag’in to the mate, ‘We must let her come to, Mr. Graham, we can’t run her in the teeth of the old s’utherly sea; ease down the helm and let her smell of it.’ It was a powerful whiff she took, for as she come to and felt the force of the wind, all three to’gallan’ masts went short off at the cap, the main-topsail sheets parted, and in an instant there wasn’t a piece of the sail left big enough for a lady’s handkerchief.

“‘That’s all it can do,’ said the old man to the mate, bitterly; ‘git this trash on deck as soon as possible, and git her a-waggin’ once more; I’ve brung her through it safe, and am goin’ home,’ and with that he dropped onto the poop as dead as mutton. He had come on deck bare-headed and with nothin’ on but his drawers and shirt, just as he had laid in his bunk for a fortnight, and the exposure had carried him off. However he knowed that the shift were so near nobody ever could tell. There were no doubt, however, but that his gittin’ her weared round were our salvation. If that gust had astruck us aback our masts would have gone sartin, and it’s a toss-up but what we’d a-gone starn fust afore she’d a-backed round. Next day we giv’ old Wiggins a funeral fit for the Emperor of Rooshy, and he well deserved it. I don’t know as ever I seen a prettier sew-up than we done on him, wrappin’ him first in the American ensign and then kiverin’ him with brand-new No. 4 canvas. Considerin’ the sails we’d lost and how much we needed the canvas, I think he must have been satisfied that we done the handsome thing by him. The day was beautiful and clear, although the wind still blowed a gale. We hadn’t been able to do much with the wreck stuff, except git lashin’s onto it for to keep it from swingin’ about, and we hadn’t dared for to try for to send up another main-topsail. We had set the reefed main-sail for to steady her, and that were all. The three to’gallan’ masts was still a-hangin’ over the side, and the ribbons of the fore sail and fore topsail was still a-flutterin’ in the breeze, when at eight bells, at mid-day, all hands was called for to bury the dead. Everythin’ that we had in the way of nice clothes we had put on for to do honour to our captain, and most of us was able to sport white shirts and broad-cloth. We laid the old man onto a plank and kivered him with the Union Jack, and all hands gathered round him, while Mr. Graham read the sarvice. Everythin’ went lovely, and just at the proper time we tilted the plank, and he slipped off without a hitch of any kind. Arter the mate finished the readin’, he said, ‘Men, there’s a good man gone arter a long life of great usefulness. He were a sailor and a gentleman. I don’t think as we ought for to cry over sich a man, and I propose we giv’ him three cheers and God bless him’; and heartier cheers was never giv’ than we giv’ that day, arter which all hands got dinner.”