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Various

"Volume 17, New Series, February 7, 1852"

I was down again. My leading thought
now was that I would strike out and swim for my life. But when I had
just made up my mind to this--which the sailors would have called
being washed away--I rose once more to the surface--and struck _up_
like a good one! I was at the cross-trees in a breath, and once in
safety there, I looked back both with shame and indignation.
When my job was finished, I went higher up in a sort of dogged humour.
I went higher, and higher, and higher than I ever ventured before,
till I felt the mast bending and quivering in the gale like the point
of a fishing-rod; and then I looked down upon the sea. And what, think
you, I found there? Why, the goblin faces were small white specks of
foam that I could hardly see; and their yelling voices were a smooth,
round, swelling tone, that rolled like music through the rigging. The
mountain-waves were like a flock of sheep in a meadow, running and
gamboling, and lying down and rising up; and in the expanse beyond the
neighbourhood of the ship, they were all lying down together, or
wandering like shadows over a smooth surface.


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