SHIP-KEEPING. 349 



huiitude. It was a solitude I very much enjoyed. 

 A Sabbath stillness reigned over the little bay in 

 which we were anchored. Most of the vessels at 

 anchor were entirely deserted ; a few had a soli- 

 tary ship-keeper, like myself a stranger to tho 

 Cape. During the two days which our crews 

 spent on shore I had ample time to take a cool 

 review of the last few years of my life, and 

 endeavor to plan out a future. 



I was now in my twenty-first year. I had, 

 unconsciously almost, grown to man's estate. And 

 I was now fully awakening to the fact, that in the 

 life I was leading there was nought to elevate, 

 everything to debase a man that day by day, I 

 was losing ground, and lessening my chances of 

 ever returning to a better life. 



To a boy every change is welcome. He has 

 the power to fit himself into any kind of life. The 

 man is different ; and I was alarmed when I found 

 how much, in the last two years, I had grown 

 into the peculiar ways of acting, and thinking 

 even, of the genuine, irredeemable old sailor. 



"A change must be made," thought I. "But 

 how? Can I return home after years of unre- 

 quited hardships, and meet the pitying smiles of 

 former friends, who have by more proper conduct 

 distanced me in the race of life ? No. This can 

 never be. Will strangers give me employment on 

 shore? Me, who bear in every line and motion 

 tho evidence of being a sailoi '' It appeared very 

 nlikely. 



