implements.

The way in which Jamie Dove and his comrades knocked about the pans,
teapots, cups and saucers, &c., without smashing them, would have
astonished, as well as gratified, the hearts of the fraternity of
tinsmiths and earthenware manufacturers.

We have said that everything in the lighthouse was substantial and
very strong. All the woodwork was oak, the floors and walls of solid
stone,--hence, when Dove, who had no nerves or physical feelings,
proceeded with his cooking, the noise he caused was tremendous. A man
used to woman's gentle ways would, on seeing him poke the fire, have
expected that the poker would certainly penetrate not only the coals,
but the back of the grate also, and perchance make its appearance at
the outside of the building itself, through stones, joggles,
dovetails, trenails, pozzolano mortar, and all the strong materials
that have withstood the fury of winds and waves for the last
half-century!

Dove treated the other furniture in like manner; not that he treated
it ill,--we would not have the reader imagine this for a moment. He
was not reckless of the household goods. He was merely indifferent as
to the row he made in using them.

But it was when the cooking was over, and the table had to be spread,
that the thing culminated. Under the impulse of lightheartedness,
caused by the feeling that his labours for the time were nearly
ended, and that his reward was about to be reaped, he went about with
irresistible energy, like the proverbial bull in a china shop,
without reaching that creature's destructive point. It was then that
a beaming smile overspread his countenance, and he raged about the
kitchen with Vulcan-like joviality. He pulled out the table from the
wall to the centre of the apartment, with a swing that produced a
prolonged crash. Up went its two leaves with two minor crashes. Down
went the four plates and the cups and saucers, with such violence and
rapidity that they all seemed to be dancing on the board together.
The beef all but went over the side of its dish by reason of the
shock of its sudden stoppage on touching the table, and the pile of
toast was only saved from scatteration by the strength of the
material, so to speak, with which its successive layers were
cemented.

When the knives, forks, and spoons came to be laid down, the storm
seemed to lull, because these were comparatively light implements,
so that this period--which in shore-going life is usually fo