Of raging winds is heard the signal gun
Warning of danger and distress.
The thick curtains were drawn around the windows, excluding the sight, if not the sound, of the tempest without, and the cheerful group again encircled their warm and glowing fire, but much lamenting the absence of Herbert. Charles, with much animation, informed his mother that everything was well sheltered from the storm. “Philip has shut up old Brindle, snug and warm,” said he, “and I have helped him fill Robin’s crib.” “That is well, my good boy,” said his mother, “and now, after taking good care of your dependents, you can enjoy the comforts of a pleasant fireside.” Susan now recurred to the circumstance of the shipwreck and Mrs. Wilson read part of a little poem written on the occasion.
“’T’will be a wild and fearful night, mark the dark, rugged clouds;
Now Heaven protect the mariners who hang upon the shrouds,”
So spake the aged fisherman, as with a careful hand
He well secured his little boat from parting from the land.
“Look, boy, if there’s a ship in sight, my mind misgives me sore,
That many a stout, brave heart now beats that soon shall beat no more.”
“Why, Grandsire, always when it storms,” replied the thoughtless lad,