nding for the island of the free,
Towards which the impatient wind blew half a gale;
High dash'd the spray, the bows dipp'd in the sea.
BYRON.

After a run of six weeks, the _Aspasia_ entered the Channel. The
weather, which had been clear during the passage home, now altered its
appearance; and a dark sky, thick fog, and mizzling, cold rain,
intimated their approach to the English shore. But, relaxed as they had
been by three years' endurance of a tropical sun, it was nevertheless a
source of congratulation, rather than complaint; for it was "regular
November Channel weather," and was associated with their propinquity to
those homes and firesides, which would be enhanced in value from the
ordeal to be passed before they could be enjoyed.

"Hah!" exclaimed an old quarter-master, who had served the earlier part
of his life in a coaster, as he buttoned his pea-jacket up to the
throat; "this is what I calls something like; none of your damned blue
skies here."

Such is the power of affection, whether of person or of things, that
even faults become a source of endearment.

As the short day closed, the _Aspasia_, who was running before the wind
and slanting rain, which seemed to assist her speed with its gravity,
hove to, and tried for soundings.

"Well, Stewart, what's the news?" said one of the midshipmen, as he
entered the berth; the drops of rain, which hung upon the rough exterior
of his great coat, glittering like small diamonds, from the reflection
of the solitary candle, which made darkness but just visible.

"News," replied Stewart, taking off his hat with a jerk, so as to
besprinkle the face of Prose with the water that had accumulated on the
top of it, and laughing at his sudden start from the unexpected shower;
"why, as the fellows roar out with the second edition of an evening
paper, `Great news, glorious news!'--and all comprised in a short
sentence:--Soundings in seventy four fathoms; grey sand and shells."

"Huzza!" answered the old master's mate.

"Now for three cheers--and then for the song."

The three cheers having been given with due emphasis, if not discretion,
they all stood up round the table. "Now, my boys, keep time. Mr
Prose, if you attempt to chime in with your confounded nasal twang, I'll
give you a squeeze."

For England, when, with favouring gale,
Our gallant ship up channel steer'd,
And, scudding under easy sail,
The high blue western land appear'd,
To heave t