"'Mr. Salmon,' ses he, 'here's a small boat with a lug sail in the
middle o' the Atlantic, with one pore man lying in the bottom of her.
What do you think o' my warning now?'
"The mate didn't say anything at first, but he took the glasses and had
a look, an' when he came back anyone could see his opinion of the
skipper had gone up miles and miles.
"'It's a wonderful thing, sir,' ses he, 'and one I'll remember all my
life. It's evident that you've been picked out as a instrument to do
this good work.'
"I'd never heard the fust mate talk like that afore, 'cept once when he
fell overboard, when he was full, and stuck in the Thames mud. He said
it was Providence; though, as it was low water, according to the tide-
table, I couldn't see what Providence had to do with it myself. He was
as excited as anybody, and took the wheel himself, and put the ship's
head for the boat, and as she came closer, our boat was slung out, and
me and the second mate and three other men dropped into her, an' pulled
so as to meet the other.
"'Never mind the boat; we don't want to be bothered with her,' shouts
out the cap'n as we pulled away--'Save the man!'
"I'll say this for Mr. McMillan, he steered that boat beautifully, and
we ran alongside o' the other as clever as possible.
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