il the bell rang the hour of noon, and
all hands knocked off work and went to dinner; by which time the three
topgallant-masts were aloft with the rigging all ready for setting up
when the men turned-to again. The addition of these spars to the length
of her already lofty masts gave the _Daphne_, in my opinion, more than
ever the appearance of being over-sparred; an opinion in which, as it
soon appeared, I was not alone.

Most of the men left the dockyard and went home (as I suppose) to their
dinner; but half a dozen or so of riggers, instead of following the
example of the others, routed out from some obscure spot certain small
bundles tied up in coloured handkerchiefs, and, bringing these on shore,
seated themselves upon some of the boxes and casks with which the wharf
was lumbered, and, opening the bundles, produced therefrom their
dinners, which they proceeded to discuss with quite an enviable
appetite.

For a few minutes the meal proceeded in dead silence; but presently one
of them, glancing aloft at the _Daphne's_ spars, remarked in a tone of
voice which reached me distinctly--I was standing within a few feet of
the party:

"Well, Tom, bo'; what d'ye think of the hooker _now_?"

The man addressed shook his head disapprovingly. "The more I looks at
her the less I likes her," was his reply.

"I'm precious glad _I_ ain't goin' to sea in her," observed another.

"Same here," said the first speaker. "Why, look at the _Siren_ over
there! She's a 38-gun frigate, and her mainmast is only two feet longer
than the _Daphne's_--as I happen to know, for I had a hand in the
buildin' of both the spars. The sloop's over-masted, that's what _she_
is."

I turned away and bent my steps homeward. The short snatch of
conversation which I had just heard, confirming as it did my own
convictions, had a curiously depressing effect upon me, which was
increased when, a few minutes afterwards, I caught a glimpse of the
distant buoy which marked the position of the sunken _Royal George_.
For the moment my enthusiasm was all gone; a foreboding of disaster took
possession of me, and but for very shame I felt more than half-inclined
to tell my father I had altered my mind, and would rather not go to sea.
I had occasion afterwards to devoutly wish I had acted on this impulse.

When, however, I was awakened next morning by the sun shining
brilliantly in at my bed-room window, my apprehensions had vanished, my
enthusiasm was again a