OWER-BATH.

They had not much longer to wait. The storm came striding across the
ocean; and, to the intense gratification of both man and boy, the rain
was soon falling upon them, as if a water-spout had burst over their
heads.

A single minute sufficed to collect over a quart within the hollow of
the spread tarpauling; and before that minute had transpired, both might
have been seen lying prostrate upon their faces with their heads
together, near the centre of the concavity, and their lips close to the
canvas, sucking up the delicious drops, almost as fast as they fell.

For a long time they continued in this position, indulging in that cool
beverage sent them from the sky,--which to both appeared the sweetest
they had ever tasted in their lives. So engrossed were they in its
enjoyment, that neither spoke a word until several minutes had elapsed,
and both had drunk to a surfeit.

They were by this time wet to the skin; for the tropic rain, falling in
a deluge of thick heavy drops, soon saturated their garments through and
through. But this, instead of being an inconvenience, was rather
agreeable than otherwise, cooling their skins so long parched by the
torrid rays of the sun.

"Little Will'm," said Ben, after swallowing about a gallon of the
rain-water, "didn't I say that He 'as sent us meat, in such good time
too, could also gi' us som'at to drink? Look there! water enow to last
us for days, lad!"

"'Tis wonderful!" exclaimed the boy. "I am sure, Ben, that Providence
has done this. Indeed, it must be true what I was often told in the
Sunday school,--that God is everywhere. Here He is present with us in
the midst of this great ocean. O, dear Ben, let's hope He will not
forsake us now. I almost feel sure, after what has happened to us, that
the hand of God will yet deliver us from our danger."

"I almost feel so myself," rejoined the sailor, his countenance resuming
its wonted expression of cheerfulness. "After what's happened, one
could not think otherwise; but let us remember, lad, that He is up
aloft, an' has done so much for us, expecting us to do what we can for
ourselves. He puts the work within our reach, an' then leaves us to do
it. Now here's this fine supply o' water. If we was to let that go to
loss, it would be our own fault, not his, an' we'd deserve to die o'
thirst for it."

"What is to be done, Ben? How are we to keep it?"

"That's just what I'm thinkin' about. In a very short