woollen night-cap on his head, who was driving a very earnest bargain
for a "small, but elegant assortment," of dabs and flounders. "Dree
and zixpence if you like," said he. "I could a bought vour times as
much vor one and zixpence coast-ways, if I'd a mind, and I'll give
thee no more, and not a word of a lie." His oratory conquered the
coyness of the fishy damsel; and he invited the lady to take a glass
of "zomat avore he topped his boom for Swanwidge."

Having before me the certainty of a dull, monotonous afternoon, and
cheerless evening, without any visible means of amusement, I instantly
closed a bargain with Dick Hart (for such was the pilot's name) to
give me a cast to Swanwidge. In a short time I found myself on board
a trim, little pilot boat, gliding along the waters as the sun was
sliding his downward course, and shedding a mellow radiance over the
distant scenery towards Lytchett. The white steeple of Poole church
was lighted by the rays, while the town presented a neat and
picturesque appearance with the masts of the shipping cutting against
the blue sky.

Dick Hart formed no small feature in the scene as he stood at the helm
with his red cap and black, curly hair, smoking a short, clay pipe,
which like his own face, had become rather brown in service. He looked
around him with an air of independence and unconcern, as the "monarch
of all he surveyed," casting his eye up now and then at the trim of
his canvass, but more frequently keeping it on me. Dick began to open
his budget of chat, and I found him as full of fun as his mainsail was
full of nettles.

A voice from the forecastle called out to Dick, who was so intent on
his story that the helm slipped from his hand, and the ship flew up