"Well, well, perhaps not," said the master of the vessel, "Do you know anything about a ship?"
How happy was the boy at that moment; with one bound he was at the side of the captain, and he proceeded with sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks to name to him all parts of the ship; there was not a sail, not a rope, not a topmast unknown to him, and the master's looks followed him with approbation and good-will.
"I am bound to the Brazils," said he; "would you like to go with me? But it is a long voyage, and the weather is not always good."
The boy's answer was a cry of joy; he seized the skipper's hard hand and pressed it to his soft cheek; but suddenly his gladness was checked.
"My mother!" he exclaimed, sorrowfully.
"We will go to her," said the captain, as he laid aside his pipe and took his hat.
Next day there was a fresh and stiff breeze, but the wind was fair and the good ship The Fair Prospect bent its way out of the harbour under full sail; it was going to the Brazils, far away beyond the wide, wide ocean; and many a month must pass before its anchor would again drop amidst the waters that laved the shores of the dear native land. But—"Away, into the world—away," came wafted on the joyous breeze;—"Be of good cheer!" smiled the gay, bright sun;—"Farewell—forget me not!" whispered the rolling waves;—and high up amidst the masts hung the exulting ship-boy, while he waved his little red cap, and wept from mingled feelings of grief and joy.
How many remained upon that shore in unruffled tranquillity! They only felt that they were obliged to be stationary, and would never see all the beautiful, the grand, and the wonderful things that the vast world has to display. But among them stood the loving mother, who had no joy on earth but him who had just left her—and in deep sorrow she concealed her tearful countenance. "Dear mother, farewell!" he breathed upon the air; but she could hear these, his parting words, Yet he felt as if his heart would have burst from his breast, and flown to her. And surely she knew this. Did she not feel that there were some sad, tender, affectionate thoughts from him who was gone, following her to her humble home, to her deserted rooms, to the empty little couch, on which she cast herself in an agony of grief? Alas! how many anxious nights would she not have to pass in that lonely cottage, now terrified by frightful dreams, now startled from her troubled sleep, by the howling and uproar of the midnight storm!
One was terrible to listen to. It was a night in spring; but the heavens were black and threatening, so that all was darkness around. The tempestuous clouds chased each other wildly through the skies, and cast their gloomy masses from one part of the heavens to another; the moon shone forth every now and then for a moment, as if in derision of its own impotence, and when its straggling beams then glanced in through the small windows, they seemed for one second to gleam upon the floor, merely to vanish again. The low house shook; the tiles fell from the roof with a loud crash into the little court below; the doors swayed back and forwards as if moved by invisible hands; and the wind absolutely roared in the chimney.
The mother lay awake in her little chamber: she sat up in her bed,
