water breaker beside the fore companion doubled my growing courage. Up I got, was welcomed almost instantly by another cloud of spray, but this time stuck to my purpose; and set myself, with all my strength and caution, to paddle after the unsteered Hispaniola. Once I shipped a sea so heavy that I had to stop and bail, with my heart fluttering like a bird; but gradually I got into the way of the thing, and guided my coracle among the waves, with only now and then a blow upon her bows and a dash of foam in my face. I was now gaining rapidly upon the schooner; I could see the brass glisten on the tiller as it banged about; and still no soul appeared upon her decks. I could not choose but suppose she was deserted. If not, the men were lying drunk below, where I might batten them down, perhaps, and do what I chose with the ship. For some time she had been doing the worst thing possible for me,-standing still. She headed nearly due south, yawing, of course, all the time. Each time she fell off, her sails partly filled, and these brought her in a moment right to the wind again. I have said this was the worst thing possible for me; for, helpless as she looked in this situation, with the canvas cracking like cannon, and the blocks trundling and banging on the deck, she still continued to run away from me, not only with the speed of the current, but by the whole amount of her leeway, which was naturally great. But now, at last, I had my chance. The breeze fell, for some seconds, very low, and the current gradually turning her, the Hispaniola revolved slowly round her center, and at last presented me her stern, with the cabin window still gaping open, and the lamp over the table still burning on into the day. The mainsail hung drooped like a banShe was stock-still, save for the current. ner. For the last little while I had even lost; but now, redoubling my efforts, I began once more to overhaul the chase. I was not a hundred yards from her when the wind came again in a clap; she filled on the port tack, and was off again, stooping and skimming like a swallow. My first impulse was one of despair, but my second was towards joy. Round she came until she was broadside on to me, -round still till she had covered a half, and then two-thirds, and then three-quarters of the distance that separated us. I could see the waves boiling white under her forefoot. Immensely tall she looked to me from my low station in the coracle. And then, of a sudden, I began to comprehend. I had scarce time to think scarce time to act and save myself. I was on the summit of one swell when the schooner came stooping over the next. The bowsprit was over my head. I sprang to my feet and leaped, stamping the coracle under water. With one hand I caught the jib-boom, while my foot was lodged between the stay and the brace; and as I still clung there panting, a dull blow told me that the schooner had charged down upon and struck the coracle, and that I was left without retreat on the Hispaniola. coracle: a fisherman's boat, made by covering a wicker frame with leather or oilcloth. Spy-glass, Haulbowline Head, Mizzenmast Hill: places on Treasure Island. Hispaniola: the name of the vessel which brought the adventurers to the island. mainsail in a fore-and-aft rigged vessel the large sail set on the after part of the mainmast. jib: a large, triangular sail extending, in a schooner, from the bowsprit end toward the foretopmast head. wind's eye in a direction contrary to that of the wind. Idead aback : some of the sails slack and some full of wind. in irons to have the yards so braced that the sails pull different ways. blocks: grooved pulleys mounted in a casing. leeway deviation from the true course, caused by drifting to leeward. stay: a strong rope to support a mast. brace: one of the ropes fastened to the yards of a ship reaching to the deck. 66. CHRISTMAS By Sir Walter Scott THE Wizard of the North, as Sir Walter Scott was justly called, was born in Edinburgh, Aug. 15, 1771. He was a delicate boy and passed much of his childhood in the country, where he became familiar with the anecdotes and legends of the Scottish border. He was not particularly studious, but was always fond of inventing and telling tales. Scott wrote his poems first and won considerable reputation as an historical poet. His first novel, "Waverley," was published anonymously: it met with instant success, and was followed by a number of others, among which were Ivanhoe,' "Kenilworth," and "Quentin Durward." His novels brought in a great deal of money, and he purchased a large estate, Abbotsford, and spent large sums in improving it and in extending hospitality to his friends. The failure of the publishing firm in which he was interested involved him in debt, so he set to work writing novels again, and kept at his labors until he had paid the obligation. But the strain was so great that his health gave way, and he died at Abbotsford, Sept. 21, 1832. Of his poetical works the best are "Marmion" and the "Lady of the Lake." The following is the introduction to Canto VI of "Marmion." WALTER SCOTT EAP on more wood!-the wind is chill; HEA But let it whistle as it will, We'll keep our Christmas merry still. The fittest time for festal cheer; While scalds yell'd out the joys of fight. And well our Christian sires of old Gave honor to the holy night; On Christmas Eve the bells were rung; |