Threw in by good luck over the ship's rail; | Accompanied with a convulsive splash, stored, To save one half the people then on board. A small old spaniel,—which had been Don Jose's, His father's, whom he loved, as ye may think, For on such things the memory reposes With tenderness, stood howling on the brink, Knowing, (dogs have such intellectual noses!) No doubt, the vessel was about to sink; And Juan caught him up, and ere he stepp'd Off, threw him in, then after him he leap'd. And first one universal shriek there rush'd, 23 knife Who let him do, in fact, whate'er he would, | Because they still can hope, nor shines the And deeming there were remedies for any ill, Thus re-embark'd his tutor and his spaniel. 'Twas a rough night, and blew so stiffly yet, That the sail was becalm'd between the seas, Though on the wave's high top too much to set, They dared not take it in for all the breeze; Each sea curl'd o'er the stern, and kept them wet, And made them bale without a moment's ease, So that themselves as well as hopes were damp'd, And the poor little cutter quickly swamp'd. Nine souls more went in her: the longboat still Kept above water, with an oar for mast, The sun rose red and fiery, a sure sign Of the continuance of the gale: to run Before the sea, until it should grow fine, Was all that for the present could be done: A few tea-spoonfuls of their rum and wine Were served out to the people, who begun To faint, and damaged bread wet through the bags, And most of them had little clothes but rags. They counted thirty, crowded in a space Which left scarce room for motion or exertion; They did their best to modify their case, One half sate up, though numb'd with the immersion, While t'other half were laid down in their place, At watch and watch; thus, shivering like 'Tis very certain the desire of life Prolongs it; this is obvious to physicians, When patients, neither plagued with friends nor wife, Survive through very desperate conditions, Nor shears of Atropos before their visions: Despair of all recovery spoils longevity, And makes men's miseries of alarming brevity. 'Tis said that persons living on annuities Are longer lived than others,-God knows why, Unless to plague the grantors,-yet so true it is, That some, I really think, do never die; 'Tis thus with people in an open boat, They live upon the love of life, and bear More than can be believed, or even thought, And stand, like rocks, the tempest's wear and tear; And hardship still has been the sailor's lot, Since Noah's ark went cruising here and there She had a curious crew as well as cargo, Like the first old Greek privateer, the Argo. But man is a carnivorous production, Beef, veal, and mutton, better for digestion. And thus it was with this our hapless crew; For on the third day there came on a calm, And though, at first, their strength it might renew. And, lying on their weariness like balm, Lull'd them like turtles sleeping on the blue Of ocean, when they woke they felt a qualm, And fell all ravenously on their provision, Instead of hoarding it with due precision. The consequence was easily foreseenThey ate up all they had, and drank their wine, In spite of all remonstrances, and then On what, in fact, next day were they to dine? They hoped the wind would rise, these foolish men! And carry them to shore; these hopes were fine, But, as they had but one oar, and that brittle, | But of materials that much shock theMuse -It would have been more wise to save their Having no paper, for the want of better, They took by force from Juan Julia's letter. victual. Their numbers were much thinn'd by this It pour'd down torrents, but they were no infliction, richer, And all the rest were thin enough, heaven Until they found a ragged piece of sheet, knows; Which served them as a sort of spongy pitcher, And some of them had lost their recollection, |