some fishermen's stores. Waves dancing joyously across Massachusetts
Bay met her coming out of the harbor to dash them into myriads of
sparkling gems that hung about her at every surge. The day was
perfect, the sunlight clear and strong. Every particle of water thrown
into the air became a gem, and the _Spray,_ bounding ahead, snatched
necklace after necklace from the sea, and as often threw them away. We
have all seen miniature rainbows about a ship's prow, but the _Spray_
flung out a bow of her own that day, such as I had never seen before.
Her good angel had embarked on the voyage; I so read it in the sea.

Bold Nahant was soon abeam, then Marblehead was put astern. Other
vessels were outward bound, but none of them passed the _Spray_ flying
along on her course. I heard the clanking of the dismal bell on
Norman's Woe as we went by; and the reef where the schooner _Hesperus_
struck I passed close aboard. The "bones" of a wreck tossed up lay
bleaching on the shore abreast. The wind still freshening, I settled
the throat of the mainsail to ease the sloop's helm, for I could
hardly hold her before it with the whole mainsail set. A schooner
ahead of me lowered all sail and ran into port under bare poles, the
wind being fair. As the _Spray_ brushed by the stranger, I saw that
some of his sails were gone, and much broken canvas hung in his
rigging, from the effects of a squall.

I made for the cove, a lovely branch of Gloucester's fine harbor,
again to look the _Spray_ over and again to weigh the voyage, and my
feelings, and all that. The bay was feather-white as my little vessel
tore in, smothered in foam. It was my first experience of coming into
port alone, with a craft of any size, and in among shipping. Old
fishermen ran down to the wharf for which the _Spray_ was heading,
apparently intent upon braining herself there. I hardly know how a