piece of paper, bidding farewell to his father. Often had he read of
such messages from the sea being wafted ashore in bottles, but little
did he expect ever to have occasion to write one. He had just put the
paper in a bottle, corked it up, and dropped it out of one of the cabin
windows, when he was summoned on deck, and found that a raft was being
hastily prepared alongside. Already some casks of biscuits and water
had been lowered on it, while the carpenter and several men were busily
at work increasing its size and binding it together with iron clamps,
hawsers, and chains.

There was urgent need for haste, as the ship was fast settling down.

"Now then, my lads, look alive!" cried the captain, as he lifted his
little daughter over the side. "The ship can't float much longer.
Here, Jack, catch hold."

Edwin sprang to the side of the raft, and, standing up, received Polly
in his arms.

"Take care of her! Hold her tight!" cried the anxious father.

"Trust me," said Philosopher Jack.

The child was placed on the highest part of the raft with the
passengers, and partially covered with a shawl. The crew were then
ordered to leave the ship. Having seen every one out of it Captain
Samson descended and gave the order to shove off. This was quickly
done, and the distance was slowly increased by means of two large oars.
The huge mass of spars and planks moved gradually away from the doomed
vessel, whose deck was by that time little above the level of the sea.
They had not got more than a few hundred yards off, when Baldwin Burr,
who pulled one of the oars, uttered an exclamation. Edwin Jack and Ben
Trench, who knelt close to him fastening a rope, looked up and saw the
captain standing on the high part of the raft near Polly and little
Wilkins, waving his right hand. He was bidding farewell to the old
ship, which suddenly went down with a heavy roll. Another moment, and
only a few ripples remained to mark the spot where the _Lively Poll_ had
found an ocean tomb.

CHAPTER THREE.

ADRIFT ON THE GREAT OCEAN.

Sunshine gladdens the heart of man and causes him more or less to forget
his sorrows. The day on which the _Lively Poll_ went down was bright
and warm, as well as calm, so that some of those who were cast away on
the raft--after the first shock had passed, and while busily employed in
binding the spars and making other needful arrangements--began to feel
sensations approaching almost to hilarity.