My wife had prepared some refreshment, of which the children partook
with an appetite that we could not feel. The three younger ones retired
to their beds, and soon slept soundly. Fritz, the eldest, watched with
me. "I have been considering," said he, "how we could save ourselves. If
we only had some cork jackets, or bladders, for mamma and my brothers,
you and I don't need them, we could then swim to land."

"A good thought," said I, "I will try during the night to contrive some
expedient to secure our safety." We found some small empty barrels in
the cabin, which we tied two together with our handkerchiefs, leaving a
space between for each child; and fastened this new swimming apparatus
under their arms. My wife prepared the same for herself. We then
collected some knives, string, tinder-box, and such little necessaries
as we could put in our pockets; thus, in case the vessel should fall to
pieces during the night, we hoped we might be enabled to reach land.

At length Fritz, overcome with fatigue, lay down and slept with his
brothers. My wife and I, too anxious to rest, spent that dreadful night
in prayer, and in arranging various plans. How gladly we welcomed the
light of day, shining through an opening. The wind was subsiding, the
sky serene, and I watched the sun rise with renewed hope. I called my
wife and children on deck. The younger ones were surprised to find we
were alone. They inquired what had become of the sailors, and how we
should manage the ship alone.

"Children," said I, "one more powerful than man has protected us till
now, and will still extend a saving arm to us, if we do not give way to
complaint and despair. Let all hands set to work. Remember that
excellent maxim, God helps those who help themselves. Let us all