Besides the captain of the ship and the two men at the wheel, there
were two other personages on deck: one was a young lad about twelve
years old, and the other a weather-beaten old seaman, whose grisly
locks were streaming in the wind, as he paced aft and looked over the
taffrail of the vessel.
The young lad, observing a heavy sea coming up to the stern of the
vessel, caught hold of the old man's arm, crying out - "Won't that
great wave come into us, Ready?"
"No, Master William, it will not: don't you see how the ship lifts her
quarters to it?--and now it has passed underneath us. But it might
happen, and then what would become of you, if I did not hold on, and
hold you on also? You would be washed overboard."
"I don't like the sea much, Ready; I wish we were safe on shore again,"
replied the lad. "Don't the waves look as if they wished to beat the
ship all to pieces?"
"Yes, they do; and they roar as if angry because they cannot bury the
vessel beneath them: but I am used to them, and with a good ship like
this, and a good captain and crew, I don't care for them."
"But sometimes ships do sink, and then everybody is drowned."
"Yes; and very often the very ships sink which those on board think are
most safe.
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