sails than down came the gale upon us. The pilot, a jolly
old fellow, kept singing out, "More yet, more yet," meaning that we were
to veer away more cable, and he did not seem satisfied till the whole of
it was out. From this circumstance the men called him "Old More Yet."
I forget his real name. I was thus early in my sea life to learn what a
real gale of wind is like.

CHAPTER TWO.

We lay at the Nore for several days with our bows pitching into the sea
and the spray flying over us, and after all, having lost both
anchor-stocks, and received other damage, we were obliged to return to
Gravesend to get them repaired. This done, we again sailed.

Light winds prevailing, we were some time getting clear of the river.
We thought that we should at once stand down channel, but as we rounded
the North Foreland the weather looked more threatening than ever, and we
found that we were to bring up in the Downs. I by this time had not
only got my sea legs, but was pretty handy aloft. The winds being
contrary we had to tack ship very frequently. I saw the first mate
looking up, when just then he sang out to me, "Away there, Jack, and
clear that rope from the lee fore-yard arm." I knew what he wanted me
to do, so running up the rigging, lay out on the yard, and quickly
performed the duty required of me. Instead, however, of returning at
once on deck, I sat watching several other ships beating up to an
anchorage, as we were, while I did not hear "Old More Yet," the pilot,
give the order "about ship." Suddenly I felt the yard beginning to
swing round. In another instant I should have been hurled off as from a
catapult into the seething ocean, or been dashed on the deck.

There was but one thing to do. Retaining my presence of mind, I made a
desperate spring and caught hold of the topmast backstay, down which I
was sliding to the rail, when I saw the first mate rushing forward to
try and catch me as I fell, he having just recollected that he had sent
me aloft. His countenance expressed the greatest alarm, for he was a
kind-hearted man, and fully believed that I should have been killed or
terribly injured. When he saw that I was safe he rated me soundly for
my carelessness, and told me never to play the same trick again. I saw,
however, that he was not really angry, and I fancy that I gained some
credit with him by the way I had sprung on to the backstay. Had I
missed it I should have been dashed to pieces.

At l