. The sea was running as
high as our tops at the time; but beyond and above it we saw the
breakers curling their white tops, foaming, and dashing, and roaring, as
if they were raging to get at us, as you may have seen wild beasts
tearing and leaping, and striving to break their chain to get out of the
menagerie at their prey. Now, indeed, it seemed there was no chance of
escape--there was no room to wear, and the ship was already half-buried
under her canvas; our only hoped seemed to be in our ground tackle, and
orders were given to clear away the anchors, and to have all ready for
cutting away the masts. That was an awful moment; we thought it was all
up with us, and there was many a pale cheek, and many a muttered prayer
for mercy and deliverance; for the worst amongst us are glad to look
aloft when death is staring us in the face below. Our captain was as
brave a fellow, and as good a seaman, as ever stepped a plank. What his
feelings may have been, it's impossible for the likes o' me to say; but
I never seed him more cool in a calm than at that moment, when the
bravest might have flinched, and no man could have cast it in his teeth.
His voice never shook when he gave his orders, loud, clear, and
distinct; and his gallant bearing cheered the down-hearted, and gave
fresh pluck to the daring. He was a trump, that fellow! He ordered the
foretopsail and foresail to be set. It seemed to be a rash and dangerous
experiment, but it succeeded. Nothing venture, nothing win; we might
have lost our masts, but we saved the ship. The little frigate lay over
for a minute, as if she was never going to rise no more; all hands
thought the masts must go, for everything aloft grinned again, and the
rigging was as taut as bars of iron; but it held on, and the frigate
righted again, and sprung ahead, as you have seen a hare make a fresh
stretch from the hounds--and we were all saved. We shaved the reef so
close, that I'm blessed if I couldn't a'most have chucked a biscuit on
shore."

"Mercy!" said the old woman; "what an escape!"

"Ay, mother, we sailors have many a narrow squeak for it, that you
long-shore folks never dream of; but you know, as the song says,
'There's a sweet little cherub sits perched up aloft, to take care of
the life of poor Jack;' and we're as safe, for the matter o' that, on
the stormy sea, as you are on the terry firmy, as our doctor used to
call the land."

"Weel, but what was the upshot o' the business?" said