insurance offices, as if it was a miracle."

"Ay, ay, Madam Budd," put in Spike, "I'll answer for that. They're
desperate talkers in and about them there insurance offices in Wall
street. Great gossips be they, and they think they know everything.
Now just because this brig is a little old or so, and was built for
a privateer in the last war, they'd refuse to rate her as even B,
No. 2, and my blessing on 'em."

"Yes, B, No. 2, that's just what your dear uncle used to call me,
Rosy--his charming B, No. 2, or Betsy, No. 2; particularly when he
was in a loving mood. Captain Spike, did you ever beat the wind in a
long voyage?"

"I can't say I ever did, Mrs. Budd," answered Spike, looking grimly
around, to ascertain if any one dared to smile at his passenger's
mistake; "especially for so long a pull as from New York to
Liverpool."

"Then your uncle used to boast of the Rose In Bloom's wearing and
attacking. She would attack anything that came in her way, no matter
who, and as for wearing, I think he once told me she would wear just
what she had a mind to, like any human being."

Rose was a little mystified, but she looked vexed at the same time,
as if she distrusted all was not right.

"I remember all my sea education," continued the unsuspecting widow,
"as if it had been learnt yesterday. Beating the wind and attacking
ship, my poor Mr. Budd used to say, were nice manoeuvres, and