It always does.

They all lived.

But the feud was done for. That was the end of it. Hannah had
put it to the bad.



_VIII. -- Soaked in Seaweed: or, Upset in the Ocean_
_(An Old-fashioned Sea Story.)_


IT was in August in 1867 that I stepped on board the deck of the
_Saucy Sally_, lying in dock at Gravesend, to fill the berth of
second mate.

Let me first say a word about myself.

I was a tall, handsome young fellow, squarely and powerfully built,
bronzed by the sun and the moon (and even copper-coloured in spots
from the effect of the stars), and with a face in which honesty,
intelligence, and exceptional brain power were combined with
Christianity, simplicity, and modesty.

As I stepped on the deck I could not help a slight feeling of triumph,
as I caught sight of my sailor-like features reflected in a tar-barrel
that stood beside the mast, while a little later I could scarcely
repress a sense of gratification as I noticed them reflected again in
a bucket of bilge water.