“After some time, and his bringing out several such speeches as above, I rous’d as if I had but just wak’d; ‘Well, waterman,’ says I, ‘how d’ye go on?’ ‘Very indifferently,’ says he; ’it blows very hard.’  ‘Ay, so it does,’ says I; ‘where are we?’ ’A little above Erith,’ says he; so down I lay again, and said no more for that time.

“By and by he was at it again, ‘It blows a frett of wind,’ and ‘It blows very hard,’ and the like; but still I said nothing.  At last we ship’d a dash of water over the boat’s head, and the spry of it wetted me a little, and I started up again as if I had been asleep; ‘Waterman,’ says I, ’what are you doing? what, did you ship a sea?’ ‘Ay,’ says the waterman, ’and a great one too; why it blows a frett of wind.’  ‘Well, well,’ says I, ’come, have a good heart; where are we now?’ ‘Almost in Gallions,’ says he, ‘that’s a reach below Woolwich.’

“Well, when we got into the Gallions reach, there the water was very rough, and I heard him say to his man, ’Jack, we’ll keep the weather-shore aboard, for it grows dark and it blows a storm.’  Ay, thought I, had I desir’d you to stand in under shore, you would have kept off in meer bravado; but I said nothing.  By and by his mast broke, and gave a great crack, and the fellow cry’d out, ‘Lord have mercy upon us!’ I started up again, but still spoke cheerfully; ‘What’s the matter now?’ says I.  ‘L—­d, Sir,’ say’s he, ’how can you sleep? why my mast is come by the board.’  ‘Well, well,’ says I, ’then you must take a goose-wing.’  ‘A goose-wing! why,’ says he, ’I can’t carry a knot of sail, it blows a storm.’  ‘Well,’ says I, ’if you can’t carry any sail, you must drive up under shore then, you have the tide under foot:’  and with that I lay down again.  The man did as I said.  A piece of his mast being yet standing, he made what they call a goose-wing sail, that is, a little piece of the sail out, just to keep the boat steddy, and with this we got up as high as Blackwall; the night being then come on and very dark, and the storm increasing, I suffer’d myself to be persuaded to put in there, though five or six mile short of London; whereas, indeed, I was resolv’d to venture no farther if the waterman would have done it.

“When I was on shore, the man said to me, ’Master, you have been us’d to the sea, I don’t doubt; why you can sleep in a storm without any concern, as if you did not value your life; I never carry’d one in my life that did so; why, ’twas a wonder we had not founder’d.’  ‘Why,’ says I, ’friend, for that you know I left it all to you; I did not doubt but you would take care of yourself;’ but after that I told him my other reason for it, the fellow smil’d, but own’d the thing was true, and that he was the more cautious a great deal, for that I took no thought about it; and I am still of opinion, that the less frighted and timorous their passengers