the bully. He could make the longest innings at cricket, and as for
swimming in all its various branches, none could compare with William.
It was finally arranged by a merchant to send William a voyage to
Newfoundland, and the news soon spread round the town that William
(for he was a general favourite) was to _see_ the world by taking to
the _sea_.

The time arrived when the ship was to be warped out from the Quay, and
to sail for her destination. The crew and the passengers were all on
board, and William was, by his absence, rather trespassing on the
indulgence of the captain; but who could be angry with the boy whom
every body loved?

The town gossips, and many a fair maiden, were on the Quay to see
young William embark. The tide had already turned, and the captain
was about to give the word "to cast off and let all go;" to send the
vessel, as it were, adrift, loose and unfettered upon the waters, to
struggle as a thing of life with the billows of the Atlantic, but
animated and controled by the energies of men. Just at this moment
William appeared at the end of the Quay, walking slowly to the scene
of embarkation with his kind and benevolent benefactress leaning, and
leaning heavily, for her heart was heavy, upon the arm of her dutiful
and beloved William. As they approached, the crowd made way with
profound respect, not the cringing respect paid to superior wealth,
but with that respect which worth of character and innate virtue can
and will command, though poverty may smite and desolate.

They walked unconscious of the notice they attracted. Their hearts
were too full to heed the sympathies of others. The youth kept his
eye fixed upon the loosening topsails of his ship; his benefactress