to penetrate what they conceived to be the mysteries of an
unexplored East. There were not a few females who regarded
the undertaking as eminently heroic. With characteristic
carelessness the trim craft was rollicked along the
Yorkshire coast until abreast of Flamborough Head, when it
became necessary to take a departure and shape a course for
Rotterdam. She scampered along at the rate of six to seven
knots an hour amid much anxiety among the crew, for a
growing terror had possessed the captain and his mate as
they neared the unknown dangers that were ahead of them. The
captain went below and had begun to unroll the chart which
indicated the approaches to his destination, when he became
horrorstruck, and rushing up the cabin stairs called out,
"All hands on deck! Hard, a port!" The mate excitedly asked,
"What's the matter?" "The matter?" said the infuriated and
panic-stricken skipper, "Why the b----y rats have eaten
Holland! There is nee Rotterdam for us, mister, _this_
voyage." But in spite of a misfortune which seemed serious,
the mate prevailed upon this distinguished person to allow
_him_ to have a share in the navigation, with the result
that the vessel reached the haven to which she was bound
without any mishap whatever.

It was not unusual for those old-time brigs, when bound to
the North in ballast, to be blown off the land by strong
westerly gales, and these occasions were dreaded by the
coasting commander whose geographical knowledge was so
limited that when he found himself drifting into the German
Ocean beyond the sight of land, his resources became too
heavily taxed, and perplexity prevailed. It was on one of