The
schooner was gone, an' I was laved out o' the world!
"Bumby, when I got on the big field agen, I stood up on my feet, an'
I sid that was my ship! She had n' e'er a sail, an' she had n' e'er
a spar, an' she had n' e'er a compass, an' she had n' e'er a helm, an'
she had n' no hold, an' she had n' no cabin. I could n' sail her, nor
I could n' steer her, nor I could n' anchor her, nor bring her to, but
she would go, wind or calm, an' she'd never come to port, but out in
th' ocean she'd go to pieces! I sid 't was so, an' I must take it, an'
do my best wi' it. 'T was jest a great, white, frozen raft, driftun
bodily away, wi' storm blowun over, an' current runnun under, an' snow
comun down so thick, an' a poor Christen laved all alone wi' it. 'T
would drift as long as anything was of it, an' 't was n' likely there'd
be any life in the poor man by time th' ice goed to nawthun; an' the
swiles 'ould swim back agen up to the Nothe!
"I was th' only one, seemunly, to be cast out alive, an' wi' the dearest
maid in the world (so I thought) waitun for me.
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