ng down his cheeks with laughing. Tommy made one more
desperate tug, carrying away one tail of the Dominie's coat; but the
Dominie perceived it not, he was still "_nubibus_," while the dog
galloped forward with the fragment, and Tom chased him to recover it.
The Dominie continued in his reverie, when old Tom burst out--

"O, England, dear England, bright gem of the ocean,
Thy valleys and fields look fertile and gay,
The heart clings to thee with a sacred devotion,
And memory adores when in far lands away."

The song gradually called the Dominie to his recollection; indeed, the
strain was so beautiful that it would have vibrated in the ears of a
dying man. The Dominie gradually turned round, and when old Tom had
finished, exclaimed, "Truly it did delight mine ear, and from such--
and," continued the Dominie, looking down upon old Tom--"without legs
too!"

"Why, old gentleman, I don't sing with my _legs_," answered old Tom.

"Nay, good _Dux_, I am not so deficient as not to be aware that a man
singeth from the mouth; yet is thy voice mellifluous, sweet as the honey
of Hybla, strong--"

"As the Latin for goose," finished Tom. "Come, father, old _Dictionary_
is in the doldrums; rouse him up with another stave."

"I'll rouse you up with the stave of a cask over your shoulders, Mr
Tom. What have you done with the old gentleman's swallow-tail?"

"Leave me to settle that affair, father: I know how to get out of a
scrape."

"So you ought, you scamp, considering how many you get into; but the
craft are swinging and heaving up. Forward there, Jacob, and sway up
the mast; there's Tom and Tommy to help you."

The mast was hoisted up, the sail set, and the lighter in the stream
before the Dominie was out of his reverie.

"Are there whirlpools here?" said the Dominie, talking more to himself
than to those about him.

"Whirlpools!" replied young Tom, who was watching and mocking him; "yes,
that there are, under the bridges. I've watched a dozen _chips_ go
down, one after the other."

"A dozen _ships_!" exclaimed the Dominie, turning to Tom; "and every
soul lost?"

"Never saw them afterwards," replied Tom, in a mournful voice.

"How little did I dream of the dangers of those so near me," said the
Dominie, turning away, and communing with himself. "`Those who go down
to the sea in ships, and occupy their business in great waters;'--`_Et
vastas aperit Syrtes_;'--`These men see the works of the Lord, and hi