THE BOY BEN AT THE WHEEL.
In the straits of Lemaire, going round Cape Horn, we overtook and were likely to pass a British ship, wire rigged, a ship of fine style. The sea was rough; we were coming too near. The boy Ben was having his trick at the wheel. He was the youngest on board. The little fellow did his best to keep the ship from broaching to, but the sea was too strong for his young arms. I pitied Ben, for I knew how mortified he would be to have another supplant him; and he was ambitious of making good his standing as a sailor. Just then a kind voice called to him; “Ben, you are a good little steersman; you can steer as well as any of them most of the time; but just now the sea is getting up; we should like to pass that ship and not get too near her; one of the able bodied sailors ought to be at the helm; ring the bell and call Nelson to come and take the wheel.” Nelson came, and worked the ship so that she soon shot ahead. Ben left the wheel with the proud satisfaction that his efforts were appreciated and praised; that only Nelson could do better than he; and Nelson was twenty years his senior. The little incident made me also sensitive about the eyes. I would rather do such an act of kindness to a young man than outstrip a British clipper.