under her side. I'll tell 'ee better when this wave goes by."

But the next instant he took down the glass, with a whitened face, and
handed it to the parson.

The parson looked too. "Terrible!--terrible!" he said, very slowly,
and passed it on to Farmer Tresidder.

"What is it? Where be I to look? Aw, pore chaps--pore chaps!
Man alive--but there's one movin'!"

Zeb snatched the glass.

"'Pon the riggin', Zeb, just under her lee! I saw en move--
a black-headed chap, in a red shirt--"

"Right, Farmer--he's clingin', too, not lashed." Zeb gave a long look.
"Darned if I won't!" he said. "Cast over them corks, Sim Udy! How much
rope have 'ee got, Jim?" He began to strip as he spoke.

"Lashins," answered Jim Lewarne.

"Splice it up, then, an' hitch a dozen corks along it."

"Zeb, Zeb!" cried his father, "What be 'bout?"

"Swimmin'," answered Zeb, who by this time had unlaced his boots.

"The notion! Look here, friends--take a look at the bufflehead!
Not three months back his mother's brother goes dead an' leaves en a