THe ComMMoODORE AND CREW. 297 

the compass, as if quite undecided as yet which way to wing 
its new flight thus early in the day. The little lady is in 
foe) 
light and buoyant, gay and airy, that whilst we are each one 
elegant shape this morning, even after the storm, and feels so 
arranging our seductives for the trout, she goes gliding about 
with each puff of the breeze, light as a feather off a duck. 
‘¢ She feels light and free, when relieved of her bundles and 
budgets, and is taking on airs,” remarks the Commodore. 
Yet he smiles to see her skip about in her freedom, and we 
know he loves his bonny boat, as she dances down the wind 
a little way, when meeting a whiffle from another quarter, as 
it is flying about as lightly as herself; she waltzes up the 
other way again, skipping over the little wavelets, nodding her 
head to them, to right and left, like a born coquette upon the 
promenade. When having our tackle all arranged, the Com- 
modore lays aside his lancewood, picks up the paddle, when 
immediately the little lady bows lightly, obeys gracefully and 
cheerfully, walking straight forward, with her usual dignity, 
over the pathway her master points out. And now away she 
flies over the waters, down the wind, like a bird skimming 
its surface o’er; for the breezes, no longer undecided, are 
accompanying us down the lake. 
Zephyrus hurries on behind, 
Blows stronger and is pushing us, 
When soon the waves, in manner kind, 
Gallantly are lifting us. 
So, with the jolly waves she loves so well, bravely assisting 
the little lady, each helping her up, and upon its crest, there 
steadying, then handing her safely down to the next, which 
gallantly receives her and passes her on, we are soon far 
down the lake, and in smooth water at the mouth of a 
