with a blast, and a shower of hail and rain, which almost took our breath from us.  The hardiest was obliged to turn his back.  We let the halyards run, and fortunately were not taken aback.  The little vessel ``paid off’’ from the wind, and ran on for some time directly before it, tearing through the water with everything flying.  Having called all hands, we close-reefed the topsails and trysail, furled the courses and jib, set the fore-topmast staysail, and brought her up nearly to her course, with the weather braces hauled in a little, to ease her.

This was the first blow I had met, which could really be called a gale.  We had reefed our topsails in the Gulf Stream, and I thought it something serious, but an older sailor would have thought nothing of it.  As I had now become used to the vessel and to my duty, I was of some service on a yard, and could knot my reef-point as well as anybody.  I obeyed the order to lay[1] aloft with the rest, and found the reefing a very exciting scene; for one watch reefed the fore-topsail, and the other the main, and every one did his utmost to get his topsail hoisted first.  We had a great advantage over the larboard watch, because the chief mate never goes aloft, while our new second mate used to jump into the rigging as soon as we began to haul out the reef-tackle, and have the weather earing passed before there was a man upon the yard.  In this way we were almost always able to raise the cry of ``Haul out to leeward’’ before them; and, having knotted our points, would slide down the shrouds and back-stays, and sing out at the topsail halyards, to let it be known that we were ahead of them.  Reefing is the most exciting part of a sailor’s duty.  All hands are engaged upon it, and after the halyards are let go, there is no time to be lost,—­ no ``sogering,’’ or hanging back, then.  If one is not quick enough, another runs over him.  The first on the yard goes to the weather earing, the second to the lee, and the next two to the ``dog’s ears’’; while the others lay along into the bunt, just giving each other elbow-room.  In reefing, the yard-arms (the extremes of the yards) are the posts of honor; but in furling, the strongest and most experienced stand in the slings (or middle of the yard) to make up the bunt.  If the second mate is a smart fellow, he will never let any one take either of these posts from him; but if he is wanting either in seamanship, strength, or activity, some better man will get the bunt and earings from him, which immediately brings him into disrepute.

We remained for the rest of the night, and throughout the next day, under the same close sail, for it continued to blow very fresh; and though we had no more hail, yet there was a soaking rain, and it was quite cold and uncomfortable; the more so, because we were not prepared for cold weather, but had on our thin clothes.  We were glad to get a watch below, and put on our thick clothing, boots, and southwesters.  Towards sundown the gale moderated a little, and it began to clear off in the southwest.  We shook our reefs out, one by one, and before midnight had top-gallant sails upon her.