It would be difficult to classify the words in nautical use,—­impossible here to do more than hint at such a possibility.  A specimen or two will show the situation of the present tongue, and the blending process already gone through with.  We need not dip for this so far into the tar-bucket as to bother (nautice, “galley”) the landsman.  We will take terms familiar to all.  The three masts of a ship are known as “fore,” “main,” and “mizzen.”  Of these, the first is English, the second Norman-French, the third Italian (mezzano).  To go from masts to sails, we have “duck” from the Swedish duk, and “canvas” from the Mediterranean languages,—­from the root canna, a cane or reed,—­thence a cloth of reeds or rushes, a mat-sail,—­hence any sail.  Of the ends of a ship, “stern” is from the Saxon stearn, steering-place; “stem,” from the German stamm.  The whole family of ropes—­of which, by the way, it is a common saying, that there are but three to a ship, namely, bolt-rope, bucket-rope, and man-rope, all the rest of the cordage being called by its special name, as tack, sheet, clew-line, bow-line, brace, shroud, or stay—­the whole family of ropes are akin only by marriage.  “Cable” is from the Semitic root kebel, to cord, and is the same in all nautical uses.  “Hawser”—­once written halser—­is from the Baltic stock,—­the rope used for halsing or hauling along; while “painter,” the small rope by which a boat is temporarily fastened, is Irish,—­from painter, a snare.  “Sheet” is Italian,—­from scotta; “brace” French, and “stay” English.  “Clew” is Saxon; “garnet” (from granato, a fruit) is Italian,—­that is, the garnet- or pomegranate-shaped block fastened to the clew or corner of the courses, and hence the rope running through the block.  Then we find in the materials used in stopping leaks the same diversity.  “Pitch” one easily gets from pix (Latin); “tar” as easily from the Saxon tare, tyr.  “Junk,” old rope, is from the Latin juncus, a bulrush,—­the material used along the Mediterranean shore for calking; “oakum,” from the Saxon oecumbe, or hemp.  The verb “calk” may come from the Danish kalk, chalk,—­to rub over,—­or from the Italian calafatare.  The now disused verb “to pay” is from the Italian pagare;—­it survives only in the nautical aphorism, “Here’s the Devil to pay,”—­that is, to pitch the ship,—­“and no pitch hot.”  In handing the sails, “to loose” is good English,—­“to furl” is Armorican, and belongs to the Mediterranean class of words.  “To rake,” which is applied to spars, is from the Saxon racian, to incline;—­“to steeve,” which is applied to the bowsprit, and often pronounced “stave,” is from the Italian stivare.  When we get below-decks, we find “cargo” to be Spanish,—­while “ballast” (from bat, a boat, and