inches of rain have been measured in forty-
one days, and where the whole year is a rainy
season, we can only mention. To the simoom
we give a nod of recognition; verily, that is a
penetrating wind, which clogs with sand the
works of a double-cased gold watch in the
waistcoat pocket of a traveller. We wave
our hands likewise to the Italian sirocco, and
the Egyptian khamsin, and the dry harmattan;
and so our dry talk ends;

It is raining still. Raining on the just and
on the unjust, on the trees, the corn, and the
flowers, on the green fields and the river, on
the lighthouse-bluff and out at sea. It is
raining on the graves of some whom we have
loved. When it rains upon a mellow summer-
evening, it is beneficently natural to most of
us to think of that, and to give those verdant
places their quiet share in the hope and
freshness of the morrow.

THE STORY OF A SAILOR'S LIFE.
CHAPTER THE SECOND.

WE were obliged to bear up in a heavy
gale from the westward, for Plymouth, after
being clear of the Land's End; and after
having all our defects made good, we sailed
from Plymouth, the 29th day of September,
1802, with a fine breeze from the north-east,
and we had a very fine passage till the 5th of
November, when we fell in with two French
merchant ships, who did not know that the
war had broke out again between England
and France, and so they became easy prizes
to us; and I had the good luck to be sent on
board of one of them, called the "La
Favorite;" she was from the Isle of France,
and was bound to Bordeaux, in France.
And after the exchange of the crew, and
our captain sending water and provisions on
board, we parted company from the Fleet for
Old England; and you may depend I was glad
enough. But the ship that I was in was a
very dull-sailing vessel, and she was very
leaky, so we made very slow progress across
the Trade Winds; but by the beginning of
December we fell in with a westerly wind,
which was a fair wind for England; and you
may depend we made the best use we could
of it; for we were only complete with six
weeks' provisions when we left our ship, and
we had now left her a month, and still were
a long distance from England.

Now the other prize, our partner, sailed
a good deal better than us; and parted
company with us the second night after. We had
a fair wind, and we never saw any more of
her; which was a very rascally trick of them;
for they knowing we were very leaky, they
ought to have stopped by us. But we having
a fair wind and fine weather, we kept on our
course till we got into soundings, on the 15th
day of December; and the next day, in the
morning, it being very hazy and very little
wind, we saw a lugger close to us, which
proved to be a French privateer. Now if our
partner had been along with us, we might
have had a fight for it; but being by
ourselves, and only mounting four guns, and
being short of provisions, for we had been six
upon four for several days, and being
continually at the pumps, we were very little fit to
fight a vessel mounting sixteen guns, and one
hundred and twenty men; so we were boarded,
and taken by the privateer; and we found
that our other prize had been, taken two days
before, by the same lugger. For, getting
information from some of the Frenchmen that
there was another ship coming, she laid to
for us in our track, and we were taken, and I
was sent on board of the French lugger. And
now I had a sure prospect before me to be
made a prisoner of war at the very commencement
of it; but, thanks be to God, I did not
stay very long with them; for the Frenchmen
on board of the lugger used us very well,
and I had not been many days on board of
the lugger, when I fell in with a young man
on board of her, who was a prisoner like
myself, who had been a shipmate of mine in the
"Blue-eyed Maid," of Guernsey, who could
speak the French language as well as any
Frenchman going, and he told me that he
would not go to a French prison if he could
help it, and I told him the same. We steered
with the prize in tow for St. Maloes, and we
got into the harbour on the fifth day of January,
1803. Now the captain and the mate of the
privateer had both been in an English prison,
and they had been used very well in England,
and the pair of them spoke very good English,
and he told us he was very sorry to see us
go to prison; and he told me and the Guernsey
man that he would do anything in his power
to keep us out of prison.

Now, when the privateer and the prizes
got into St. Maloes it was late in the
afternoon, and the crew being overjoyed
at taking so many prizes, and got them
all safe in, and their friends coming to see
them, and bringing them something to
eat and to drink, that by the time it
was dark, there was scarce a sober man on
board of the privateer; and the captain not
being able to send us on shore in the evening,
he kindly told us to look out for ourselves,
for he would be obliged to send us on shore
in the morning. We thanked him kindly for
his good wishes towards us, and me and the
Guernsey man said we would make the most
of it. Now one of the prizes' boats was towed
a-stern of the privateer, and with her we
attempted to make our escape; and the first
thing we done after it was dark, was to see
how many of our fellow-prisoners we could
get to go along with us; and we soon got nine
more besides ourselves. And the next thing
we done was to haul the boat up alongside,
and put in her anything that we thought
necessary for our voyage, such as provisions
and water. We had the good luck to find two
breakers of water, each breaker holding about