“Baragat,” said the Captain, “we have just passed the Isle of Guinea-Hens.  You can see its one mountain standing up against the sky to the north.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” said old Baragat; “there she stands, the same as usual.”

“That makes it plain,” said the Captain, “that we are not yet half-way across, and I am very much afraid that I shall not be able to reach my dear daughter’s house before Christmas.”

“That would be doleful, indeed,” said Baragat; “but I’ve feared something of the kind, for we’ve had calms nearly every other day, and sometimes, when the wind did blow, it came from the wrong direction, and it’s my belief that the ship sailed backward.”

“That was very bad management,” said the Captain.  “The chief mate should have seen to it that the sails were turned in such a manner that the ship could not go backward.  If that sort of thing happened often, it would become quite a serious affair.”

“But what is done can’t be helped,” said the boatswain, “and I don’t see how you are going to get into port before Christmas.”

“Nor do I,” said the Captain, gazing out over the sea.

“It would give me a sad turn, sir,” said Baragat, “to see you spend Christmas at sea; a thing you never did before, nor ever shall do, if I can help it.  If you’ll take my advice, sir, you’ll turn around, and go back.  It’s a shorter distance to the port we started from than to the one we are going to, and if we turn back now, I am sure we all shall be on shore before the holidays.”

“Go back to my son’s house!” exclaimed Captain Covajos, “where I was last winter!  Why, that would be like spending last Christmas over again!”

“But that would be better than having none at all, sir,” said the boatswain, “and a Christmas at sea would be about equal to none.”

“Good!” exclaimed the Captain.  “I will give up the coming Christmas with my daughter and her children, and go back and spend last Christmas over again with my son and his dear boys and girls.  Have the ship turned around immediately, Baragat, and tell the chief mate I do not wish to sail backward if it can possibly be avoided.”

For a week or more the “Horn o’ Plenty” sailed back upon her track towards the city where dwelt the Captain’s son.  The weather was fine, the carpet was never taken up from the quarter-deck, and every thing was going on very well, when a man, who happened to have an errand at one of the topmasts, came down, and reported that, far away to the north, he had seen a little open boat with some people in it.

“Ah me!” said Captain Covajos, “it must be some poor fellows who are shipwrecked.  It will take us out of our course, but we must not leave them to their fate.  Have the ship turned about, so that it will sail northward.”

It was not very long before they came up with the boat; and, much to the Captain’s surprise, he saw that it was filled with boys.