light hung forward, an old captain saw the mysterious coloured circles coming down on him.  He did not understand this new thing, and his faculties became confused.  He shouted “Hard a-starboard.  We’ll be into a chemist’s shop.”  This momentary infirmity of purpose was the source of much fun among more advanced mariners in his town.  Another master who happened to have a leisure evening went to hear a popular astronomical lecture.  He was much troubled by what he heard, and he explained his perplexity with great feeling to his friends.  He said:  “The man told the lot of us that the world turned round and round; but I cannot see how that can be.  The Hatter’s Rock’s been there ever since I can mind.”  It sometimes happened that a captain more than usually competent was sent over seas to strange regions.  One gentleman who could read and use a chart was despatched to Rotterdam.  After getting over the bar and well away to the east, he produced his charts and made a learned inspection; but the charts had been a long time in the lockers, and circumstances combined to alarm him extremely.  He went up on deck and called to his mate, “Put her about, the rats has eaten Holland.”  One of the most remarkable of the old school was a man who could actually take his ship about and find his place on the chart without being able to read the names himself.  He always became very shortsighted on longish voyages.  Towards the end of his time the new race of apprentices who had learned to read began to go to sea:  before that period he had only been used to coasting trips, and the learned youths were a godsend to him when his owners sent him far afield.  He would call his lad down below, and, assuming a tender air, would give the seasoned youngster a glass of rum.  He would then point to the chart and say, “We’re there.  What is that place, my man?  I can’t see very well.”  On receiving his answer, he would remark, gravely, “I thought it was that.”  This innocent device gave the greatest entertainment to his irreverent pupils.  Sometimes this kind of ignorance led to complications.  One old gentleman bored away through a fog for several days under the pleasing impression that he was going north about from Liverpool.  After a long time a vessel came past and the lost captain inquired, “Are we going right for the Castle foot?” The stranger made answer.  “What Castle foot?” Whereupon the incensed skipper said, “There’s only one Castle foot.  Tynemouth Castle.”  The answer was discouraging:  “If you go as you’re going, you’ll be at Newfoundland in a very short time.”  This hero felt his way back and after many days and much hailing of passing ships he sighted St. Abb’s Head.  He then said with pride, “Ah! here’s England.  Aw thowt aw would fetch her.”  He had really known no more of his route than a player at blind man’s buff knows of his way about a room.