Look ahead, look astarn, look the weather an' the lee—
Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we—
I see a wreck to windward, an' a lofty ship to lee;
A-sailing down all on the coasts of High Barbary.
And when he reached, "With cutlass and with gun, oh, we fought for hours three," Garth shivered with anticipation.
The ship it was their coffin, and their grave it was the sea,—
A-sailing down all on the coasts of High Bar-bar-y.
Jim's voice boomed out through an air quiet and golden after the fog. Joan wished for more songs, but there was seemly silence in the lighthouse boat as it slid up alongside the landing at Quimpaug.
"Though Regulations say nothing against it," said Jim, "the inhabitants might report me for undignified conduct."
The wharf was deserted, with the exception of a lean gray cat nosing hopefully at a lobster-pot.
"This place goes absolutely dead as soon as the Pettasantuck leaves," Jim commented, as he made the boat fast at the slippery steps. "Who's coming ashore?"
"I am," said Elspeth. "I want to pick out
