It does look rather like a squall, and I am not ashamed to own that I should very much prefer to be in my little snug chamber at Bellisle, out of the reach of harm.

Tell Corty that I have taken a sketch of a schooner, that has kept near us for the last twenty-four hours, which is just like the one I am in; and when she sees it I hope, with a little explanation, that she will know as much about one as I do, though she has never seen any kind of craft but a canal-boat, and I don’t think they are worthy to be named with any thing but Noah’s ark.  O, how I want to see you all!  I never will leave home again.  Remember me to every thing I love, as your affectionate cousin,

Pidgie.

LETTER V.

OLD JACK.

From Pidgie to Bennie.

Banks of Newfoundland, July 16th, 1846.

Little did you think, dear Bennie, while sleeping last night quietly at Bellisle, that your poor cousin Pidgie was in danger of being drowned.  But so it was.  The storm, of which Brown Tom had warned me, came on with tremendous force, and our poor little schooner was tossed about like a feather on the angry waves.  I was so sick, however, from the roughness of the sea, that I feared little, and realized less, of our critical situation.

Clarendon says that Captain Cobb showed himself a brave man, and David was more active than the oldest of the sailors.  As for brother himself, he did wonders.  Old Jack told me this morning, that, when we came on hoard, he thought Clarendon was such a good-for-nothing that his life was scarcely worth saving; but there was not a man on board who showed more presence of mind and energetic courage.  He really looks better this morning for his exertions.

Sick as I felt last night, there was one thing struck me forcibly, and that was, that those who had sworn the loudest, and appeared the boldest in wickedness since we started, were most frightened, and prayed most heartily to that Being whose existence they were before hardly willing to acknowledge.  I can give you no better description of the scene than is found in the Psalm, which is so often quoted by those who are at sea; for the ship did indeed “reel to and fro like a drunken man.”

Old Jack was perfectly composed.  And well he may be; for he says that he always thinks in a storm that he may arrive shortly at a better port than he otherwise could reach in many years.  He has been telling us this morning how he came at this happy state of mind, and several of the sailors were made serious enough, by the perils of last night, to listen patiently to his story, and perhaps you may do the same.

Before it was considered possible for a sea-faring man to be perfectly temperate, Jack took more than his share of grog; and, when on shore, spent all his time in dissipation.  Luckily, he had no wife to be made miserable by his errors, though perhaps a good woman might have had an excellent influence on him.  As he had no home of his own, his time when in port was spent at some miserable tavern by the water-side, where he could meet the crews of vessels from all quarters of the world, and join with them in folly and vice.