ly--"Who're you?"
answer, "I'm the Rob Roy!"--"What in the world did you come here for?"
"To look at the beautiful lights on your river." In a murmuring grumble,
he said to that, "Too many on 'em there is--we can't see where we're
goin' with them;" and this is indeed perfectly true, for the light of
these furnaces dazzles by its brightness, which is not diffused, whereas
if no lights were there at all, the men could see well enough, for it is
marvellous how the eye will perceive at least the bounds between land and
water, when practice sharpens keen vision and no false light is shining.
It is, however, quite true also, that the language of the barge-world is
not to be found complete in Johnson's dictionary. It is far more
powerful than elegant. Words that are unused ashore except in anger or
the coarsest abuse seem to be the gentle appellations of endearment
between father and son afloat. But we must not forget that it is the
meaning attached to a word by speaker and hearer, and not that given to
it by a world outside of both, which the word will represent. {284}

From the highest point we could reach towards Maidstone, we soon ran down
again to Rochester, and various were the conflicting verdicts of bargees
as to whether or not my mast would now go under the bridge, for the tide
was very high, and I sailed back and forward, getting opinions, and
surveying the bridge on all sides. At length I determined it could be
done, and my heart beat nervously as the yawl neared the centre arch--not
as to danger, but the dishonour of breaking a goodly spar at the end of a
cruise, and in so trumpery a feat. It passed clear, however, by inches.

The evening was too fine at Sheerness to think of anchoring, so with a
sudden resolve we set off again to Southend. Here the advice of a yacht
lying near was followed foolishly (get _facts_ from experts and decide on
deeds yourself), for I anchored without sounding, and too late found it
was in shallow water, only eight feet by the lead, and the tide running
out. To bed but not to sleep, for the water sunk to five feet, and,
angry with myself, I roused at one o'clock, gave out all the rope,
sheered off shore by the rudder, and then, again at rest, gained only six
inches of depth; but once more sounding, there was only six inches to
spare under the keel and with a strong breeze on shore. Therefore, now
again on the move, we fastened the inner end of the cable to the larger
anchor and