n' hot--when my blessed
parlyment, says Molly Franky--"

"Who was she?"

"Another figger o' speech, sir, that's all. Well, as I was a-sayin',
on a sudden, lo and be'old! the breeze drops dead. Ef you'll believe
me, sir, 'twas calm as the Sar'gossa Sea. So there we was stuck--the
sail not so much as flappin'--for the best part o' two hour; at the
end o' which time (Joe not bein' a convussational man beyond sayin'
'thankye' when he got hes vittles) I was gettin' a bit dumb-foundered
for topicks to talk 'pon. 'Cos, as for the weather, there 'twas,
an', as Joe remarked, 'twasn' going to move any more for our
discussin' of et, nor yet cussin' for that matter."

"I see."

"Well, sir, we was driven at last to singin' a hymn to keep our
speerits up. Leastways, the boy an' me sang, an' Joe beat time.
Then says Joe, 'Look 'ere, I'm a-goin' to allee-couchee ef et lasts
like this.' 'Well,' I says, for I was gettin' desprit, 'have 'ee ever
tried to make poetry?' 'No,' says he, 'can't say I have.' 'Well,' I
says, 'I've oft'n wanted to. Let's ha' a shy. You go aft and think
of a verse, an' I'll go forra'd an' make another, an' then us'll see
which sounds best.' 'Done,' says he, an' off he goes.

"Well, I sits there for mor'n an hour, thinkin' hard, and terrable
work I found et. At last Joe shouts across, 'Hav'ee done?
Time's up'; and I told 'un I'd done purty middlin'. So us stepped
amidships, and spoke out what us had made."

Caleb made a long pause.

"I should like to hear the verses, if you remember them," said Mr.
Fogo.

"Should 'ee now?" Caleb asked with fine modesty. "Well, I don't
mind, on'y you mus'n' expect 'em to be like Maister Moggridge's.
Mine went thicky way." He recited very slowly, with a terrific
rolling of syllables:--

"See her glidin' dro' the water,
Far, far away!
Many a true heart's niver to be found.

"The last line alludes to my gal wot had recently e-loped wi' the
Rooshan," Caleb explained.

"Was that all?"

"That was all o' mine, sir, but Joe's was p'ints better.
Just listen:--"

"Fare thee well, Barnstaple steeple,--"

"(He was a Barnstaple man, sir, was Joe)--"

"Fare thee well, I say,
Never shall I see thee, once agen, a long time ago."

"Well, sir, we was just a-goin' to step back an' have another shy,
when the breeze sprang up a'most as sudden as et fell, and the
consikence es, sir, that I've niver made no more poetry from that day
to