360 NIMBOD OF THE SEA; OR, 



ray own nature. Who knows? A whale-chase to stir us 

 from this deadly stupor would be a Godsend. 



Jan. 20. Once upon a time there was a sailor, and his 

 name was Jack, and Jack was beloved and loved. Tet 

 Jack, with the inconsistency of the winds, and the fickleness 

 of the sea — for it is the sea and the winds that form the 

 sailor — changed his love and went to sea. Then his Polly 

 raised a wail, and fell back on her mother for comfort. Her 

 little heart was to the full of bitterness, and she said, " May 

 Jack and his ship sail always in a gale of wind !" But her 

 knowing old mother said : " Nay, my daughter, under such 

 luck Jack would get all "snug under close reef, and lay at his 

 lazy length under the lee of the long-boat, and spin yarns 

 about the gals ashore. Wish him variable, light winds, with 

 constant rain, and keep him box-hauling the yards in a wet 

 jacket." Some old lady's curse is close after some incon- 

 stant heart aboard this ship, for such is our weather. Rain 

 every night, is the order of the day, as an Irishman would say, 

 and we bless all old women in return for their maledictions. 



In these seas, as the ship plows her way, flying-fish in 

 great shoals rise from under the bows, and sail away to 

 windward, in flights of fifty or more fathoms. Thtf broad 

 spread of their silvery fins, with their blue bodies glittering 

 in the sunlight, present a spectacle beautiful as singular, 

 even to the accustomed eye. Perhaps no fish excite more 

 interest in the mind of the voyager than these little spark- 

 ling gems of the deep water. They are an almost constant 

 presence before the moving, ship. The dullest sailor and 

 the least observant passenger will pause in their occupation 

 to watch their flight, and will await with interest their com- 

 ing on board, as they are eagerly pursued by dolphin, albi- 

 core, or skip-jack. When thus chased, they sometimes fly 

 over the lee bulwarks and fall on the ship's deck, sometimes 

 striking as high as the fore or main sail. Naturalists are 



