duties and charities excepted, brings to each mind its particular forms of
happiness and good. The weather-beaten seaman, the foot-worn soldier, the
weary traveller, the adventurer in whatever lands interest or pleasure
may lead, equally feels a throb at his heart as he hears the welcome
sounds of "hey for home." Never were craft prepared for sea with greater
rapidity than was the case now with our two Sea Lions. It is true that the
Oyster-Ponders were nearly ready, and had been quite so, for a fortnight;
but a good deal remained to be done among the Vineyarders. The last set
themselves to their task with a hearty good-will, however, and with
corresponding results.

"We will leave the house standing for them that come after us," said
Roswell, when the last article belonging to his schooner was taken out of
it. "The deacon has crammed us so full of wood that I shall be tempted to
throw half of it overboard, now we have so much cargo. Let all stand,
Hazard, bunks, planks and all; for really we have no room for the
materials. Even this wood," pointing to a pile of several cords that had
been landed already to make room for skins and casks that had been brought
out in shocks, "must go to the next comer. Perhaps it may be one of
ourselves; for we sailors never know what port will next fetch us up."

"I hope it will be old Sag, sir," answered Hazard, cheerfully; "for,
though no great matter of a seaport, it is near every man's home, and may
be called a sort of door-way to go in and out of the country through."

"A side-door, at the best," answered Roswell. "With you, I trust it will
be the next haven that we enter; though I shall take the schooner at once
in behind Shelter Island, and tie her up to the deacon's wharf."

What images of the past and future did these few jocular words awaken in