nt sails furled.

Captain Jarvis: How fast does she go now, Mr. Popkins?

Mr. Popkins (after heaving the log.) Seven knots and a half, sir!

Captain Jarvis: Too fast, sir much too fast! Take in more sail. Why, Mr.
Popkins, we shall be at the end of our voyage before we know it, at this
rate.

Mr. Popkins, with the men of the larboard watch, went to work, and in a
few minutes the ship was running along quietly under her three topsails,
jib, and spanker.

Captain Jarvis: Throw the log, Mr. Popkins.

Mr. Popkins: She is now going six knots, sir.

Captain Jarvis: Six knots! Very well very well indeed, Mr. Popkins.
Always bear in mind that we are not paid by "the run," or the voyage;
and six knots is very fair sailing between man and man. It is better to
sail strong than to sail fast. Don't let me catch you running off at the
rate of nine knots again. Stick to six and you will do, otherwise
there will be no wages coming to us when we get home. Do you hear, Mr.
Popkins?

Mr. Popkins, gruffly, (he had a sprinkling of Young America in his
composition.) Ay, ay, sir!

Although Captain Mott was sometimes deficient in judgment, and on more
than one occasion narrowly escaped losing overboard some of the crew,
or wrecking the brig, he was, nevertheless, an excellent seaman, managed
his vessel with skill, and navigated her with unusual correctness.
Not being paid by the month but by primage on the freight, he was a
veritable "driver," and lost no opportunity to urge his vessel ahead,
even at the risk of starting a butt, springing a spar, or losing a
man. Being always willing to work, on hand in any emergency, and
never shrinking from danger, I was often a sufferer from his go-ahead
instincts, as well as from his arbitrary mandates and unfeeling
disposition. And were it not that there is,

"A sweet little cherub which sits up aloft,
And looks out for the life of poor Jack,"

I should have become food for fishes long before we reached the
longitude of the Western Islands.

One afternoon, before we left the Gulf Stream, a thunder squall arose
from the south-east. It came towards us rapidly, as if borne on the
wings of the Genius of Storms. Its whole aspect was "wicked" in the
extreme, and every man on board knew that prudence required sail to be
taken in and preparations made for the reception of the tornado. The
captain was on deck, but the boatswain unfortunately remarked, "That
squall looks like an ugly c