THE SHIPWRECK. 
7 
bers^ however, were so rotten that I could almost thrust 
my umbrella through them. They told us that some 
were saved on this piece, and also showed where the sea 
had heaved it into this cove, which was now dry. When 
I saw where it had come in, and in what condition, I 
wondered that any had been saved on it. A little fur¬ 
ther on a crowd of men was collected around the mate 
of the St. John, who was telling his story. He was a 
elim-looking youth, who spoke of the captain as the mas¬ 
ter, and seemed a little excited. ^He was saying that 
when they jumped into the boat, she filled, and, the ves¬ 
sel lurching, the weight of the water in the boat caused 
the painter to break, and so they were separated. 
Whereat one man came away, saying: — 
“Well, I don’t see but he tells a straight story 
enough. You see, the weight of the water in the boat 
broke the painter. A boat full of water is very 
heavy,” — and so on, in a loud and impertinently 
earnest tone, as if he had a bet depending on it, but 
had no humane interest in the matter. 
Another, a large man, stood near by upon a rock, 
gazing into the sea, and chewing large quids of tobacco, 
as if that habit were forever confirmed with him. 
“ Come,” says another to his companion, “ let’s be off. 
We’ve seen the whole of it. It’s no use to stay to the 
funeral.” 
Further, we saw one standing upon a rock, who, we 
were told, was one that was saved. He was a sober- 
looking man, dressed in a jacket and gray pantaloons, 
with his hands in the pockets. I asked him a few ques¬ 
tions, which he answered; but he seemed unwilling to 
talk about it, and soon walked away. By his side stood 
one of the life-boat men, in an oil-cloth jacket, whc told 
