106 The Last Moorings. 



deep ruts, besides the long regular Atlantic sweUs 

 of the furrows and ' lands.' So that the cargo had 

 need to be firml}- placed in the hold. 



Every now and then she goes into dock and gets 

 a new streak of paint and a thorough overhauling. 

 The running rigging of the harness has to be polished 

 and kept in good condition, and the crew are rarel}' 

 idle if the captain knows his business. You should 

 never let your ' fo'castle ' hands loll about ; the 



proverb about the and the idle hands is notori- 



oush^ true aboard ship, and in the stables. 



How many a man's life has centred about the 

 wagon ! As a child he rides in it as a treat to the 

 hay-field with his father ; as a lad he walks beside 

 the leader, and gets his first ideas of the great world 

 when they visit the market town. As a man he 

 takes command and pilots the ship for many a long, 

 long year. When he marries, the wagon, lent for 

 his own use, brings home his furniture. After a while 

 his own children go for a ride in it, and play in it 

 when stationary in the shed. In the painful ending 

 the wagon carries the weak-kneed old man in pit}' 

 to and from the old town for his weekly store of 

 goods, or ma3'hap for his weekl}' dole of that staft" of 

 life his aged teeth can hardly grind. And many a 

 plain coffin has the old wagon carried to the distant 

 churchyard on the side of the hill. It is a cold spot 

 — ^as life, too, was cold and hard ; yet in the spring 

 the daisies will come, and the thrushes will sing on 

 the bough. 



Built at first of seasoned wood, kept out of the 

 weather under cover, repainted, and taken care of, 

 the wagon lasts a lifetime. Many times repau'ed, the 



