2l6 



FISHERMEN'S OWN BOOK, 



I now could see what looked like a bright light glimmering through the 

 fog, about the height a steamer's light would be, half a mile distant, the fog 

 being quite thin). After taking a good look, I said I thought it was a star, 

 and told the man at the wheel to keep the vessel on her course, but a mo- 

 ment later it showed plainer, and the lookout exclaimed, "I'm d — d if 'taint 

 the moon !" I could not help laughing at the fright it had given him, and 

 told him to blow the horn loud, and if the " man in the moon " heard it he 

 would probably keep off and let us go along. 



Such mistakes occur quite often. I have been called out many a time, 

 when running for the land on a clear night, to see a star rising, that the 

 watch had mistaken for a light on the land. This is not so much to be 

 wondered at, since the appearance of a bright star near the horizon so 

 closely resembles a fixed light on shore, that almost any one is liable to be 

 misled. 



GLOUCESTER HARBOR. 



BY WILLIS G. BURNHAM. 



rAM^W" 



How oft, like some fond mother-bird, 



Who, when the clouds foretell the storm. 

 Gathers her little trembling ones 



Beneath the shelter of her form, 

 Do thy bright waters, when the wind 



Sweeps mournfully across the sea, 

 Gather the white-winged, wave-tossed craft 



From storm and wreck protectingly. 



How beautiful beneath the rays 

 Of a bright sun, or fair full moon, 



Thy surface shines with pleasant light. 

 At midnight, or at day's full noon; 



Like some dear friend whose kindly smile 

 Has cheered us both in storm and calm. 



And for our hearts' deep, secret wounds 

 Has been a healing, welcome balm. 



Alas I that as we look far out 



Beyond thy peace, we watch in vain 

 The schooners coming from the sea, 



Which will not meet our gaze again ; 

 When, long ago, each sunlit sail 



Went down below the horizon's blue, 

 How little, ah! how little then 



We of time's hastening changes knew. 



