120 SIMPSON, MYSELF AND THE PEKSONAGE. 



up-country. Blow all their cash on their jeans ! 

 An' I tell you, boy, they ain't no true piosity in 

 splicin' elbows with Dago strangers — not of a 

 Sunday, no, sir — not if the court knows herself, 

 an' (feeling of his plastered nose, and glancing 

 mournfully at my bandaged head and blackened 

 eye) she thinks she do / " 



We finally bade adieu to the beautiful islands 

 of the South Pacific ocean, and began our home- 

 ward voyage. We had a fair passage to the Cape, 

 but as we neared that point of storms and gales, 

 the days grew shorter and the weather more 

 boisterous. When we ran to the eastward, we 

 encountered heavy gales, with a tremendous sea 

 running. Although the gales were a fair wind 

 for us, the old man did not run nights, as the ship 

 was deeply laden with oil, and he was afraid of 

 losing our boats or having our decks swept by the 

 sea washing over us. We hove to several nights, 

 and on one of these nights we lost a man over- 

 board. Thanks to the tireless exertions of the 

 crew, he was saved from a watery grave. He 

 had been sent aloft to loose the fore-top-sail 

 during the night and was stepping from the top- 

 sail yard to the rigging, when the ship fetched a 

 heavy roll to the windward. He missed his hold 

 and fell into the sea ; but as he was to windward, 



