`There,' says he, `now you knows why the
trowsers wouldn't sink, and I'll leave you to judge whether they ar'n't
worth five shillings.' That's my story."

"Well, I can't understand how it is, that a caul should keep people up,"
observed old Tom.

"At all events, a _call_ makes people come up fast enough on board a
man-of-war, father."

"That's true enough, but I'm talking of a child's caul, not of a
boatswain's, Tom."

"I'll just tell you how it is," replied Stapleton, who had recommenced
smoking; "it's _human natur'_."

"What is your opinion, sir?" said Mary to the Dominie.

"Maiden," replied the Dominie, taking his pipe out of his mouth, "I
opine that it's a vulgar error. Sir Thomas Brown, I think it is, hath
the same idea; many and strange were the superstitions which have been
handed down by our less enlightened ancestors--all of which mists have
been cleared away by the powerful rays of truth."

"Well, but, master, if a vulgar error saves a man from Davy Jones's
locker, ar'n't it just as well to sew it up in the waistband of your
trowsers?"

"Granted, good Dux; if it would save a man; but how is it possible? it
is contrary to the first elements of science."

"What matter does that make, provided it holds a man up?"

"Friend Dux, thou art obtuse."

"Well, perhaps I am, as I don't know what that is."

"But, father, don't you recollect," interrupted Tom, "what the parson
said last Sunday, that faith saved men? Now, Master Dominie, may it not
be faith that a man has in the _caul_ which may save him?"

"Young Tom, thou art astute."

"Well, perhaps I am, as father said, for I don't know what that is. You
knock us all down with your dictionary."

"Well I do love to hear people make use of such hard words," said Mary,
looking at the Dominie. "How very clever you must be, sir! I wonder
whether I shall ever understand them?"

"Nay, if thou wilt, I will initiate--sweet maiden, wilt steal an hour or
so to impregnate thy mind with the seeds of learning, which, in so fair
a soil, must needs bring forth good fruit!"

"That's a fine word, that _impregnate_--will you give us the English of
it, sir?" said young Tom to the Dominie.

"It is English, Tom, only the old gentleman _razeed_ it a little. The
third ship in the lee line of the Channel fleet was a eighty, called the
_Impregnable_, but the old gentleman knows more about books than sea
matters."

"A marvellous misconception," quoth the Dominie.