Folk-Lore
appear! tossed like a chip midst the ceaseless heave. The old skipper ships the rudder. God bless his weather-beaten face and nerve his hand to hold the helm. All he can do is to steer a straight course. Billows to right of him, billows to left of him, billows behind him, threaten to whelm him. But another also has a charge, and on him mainly does our safety depend. This is the man who holds the halyards (the towman), and has control of the sail.
When everything is ready the sail is hoisted, and the towman grasps the halyards. In one hand he holds the hoisting part and in the other the downhaul. Like a frightened steed the boat runs before the gale. Presently an angry wave comes rolling in our wake, and as it overtakes us we appear to be plunging headlong into the abyss of the waters; but the man who holds the halyards instantly lowers the sail a few feet so as to retard our motion. We seem for the moment to be hanging on a
pivot of unstable water, but the wave
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