grinned.

Merry sailors dressed in blue with white handkerchiefs round their
necks went about patting the horses, or pricking their nostrils with
a straw to make them rear. When the farmers woke up and scolded,
they laughed with delight, and sang--

"A sailor he must go through
A deal more bad than good, good, good!"

A big pilot, in an Iceland vest and woollen gloves, was rushing
anxiously about with a megaphone in his hand, growling like an
uneasy bear. Now and then he climbed up on the molehead, put
the megaphone to his mouth, and roared out over the water:
"Do--you--hear--any--thing?" The roar went on for a long time out
upon the long swells, up and down, leaving behind it an oppressive
silence, until it suddenly returned from the town above, in the
shape of a confused babble that made people laugh.

"N-o-o!" was heard a little while after in a thin and long-drawn-out
cry from the sea; and again the horn was heard, a long, hoarse sound
that came rocking in on the waves, and burst gurgling in the splash
under the wharf and on the slips.

The farmers were out of it all. They dozed a little or sat flicking
their whips to pass the time. But every one else was in a state of
suspense. A number of people had gradually gathered about the harbor
--fishermen, sailors waiting to be hired, and master-artisans who
were too restless to stay in their workshop. They came down in their
leather aprons, and began at once to discuss the situation; they