never known anything of the matter. I expected every
wave would have swallowed us up, and that every time the ship fell down,
as I thought it did, in the trough or hollow of the sea, we should never
rise more; in this agony of mind, I made many vows and resolutions that
if it would please God to spare my life in this one voyage, if ever I got
once my foot upon dry land again, I would go directly home to my father,
and never set it into a ship again while I lived; that I would take his
advice, and never run myself into such miseries as these any more. Now I
saw plainly the goodness of his observations about the middle station of
life, how easy, how comfortably he had lived all his days, and never had
been exposed to tempests at sea or troubles on shore; and I resolved that
I would, like a true repenting prodigal, go home to my father.

These wise and sober thoughts continued all the while the storm lasted,
and indeed some time after; but the next day the wind was abated, and the
sea calmer, and I began to be a little inured to it; however, I was very
grave for all that day, being also a little sea-sick still; but towards
night the weather cleared up, the wind was quite over, and a charming
fine evening followed; the sun went down perfectly clear, and rose so the
next morning; and having little or no wind, and a smooth sea, the sun
shining upon it, the sight was, as I thought, the most delightful that
ever I saw.

I had slept well in the night, and was now no more sea-sick, but very
cheerful, looking with wonder upon the sea that was so rough and terrible
the day before, and could be so calm and so pleasant in so little a time
after. And now, lest my good resolutions should continue, my companion,
who had enticed me away, comes to me; "Well, Bob," says he, clapping me
upon the shoulder, "how do you do after it? I warrant you were frighted,
wer'n't you, last night, when it blew but a capful of wind?" "A capful
d'you call it?" said I; "'twas a terrible storm." "A storm, you fool
you," replies he; "do you call that a storm? why, it was nothing at all;
give us but a good ship and sea-room, and we think nothing of such a
squall of wind as that; but you're but a fresh-water sailor, Bob. Come,
let us make a bowl of punch, and we'll forget all that; d'ye see what
charming weather 'tis now?" To make short this sad part of my story, we
went the way of all sailors; the punch was made and I was made half drunk
with it: and i