NIGHTS AT SEA:
Or, Sketches of Naval Life during the War.
BY THE OLD SAILOR.
No. II.
THE WHITE SQUALL.
I was born in a cloud of sulphureous hue— Darkness my mother, and Flame my sire; The earth shook in terror, as forth to its view I sprang from my throne like a monarch of fire! My brother, bold Thunder, hurraed as I sped! My subjects laugh'd wild, till the rain from their eyes Roll'd fast, as though torrents were dash'd overhead, Or an ocean had burst through the bounds of the skies! Charles Swain.
My last, left the gallant Spankaway with her three topmasts over the side; and a very natural question arises, "How did it happen?" Her commander was as smart an officer as ever lived; an excellent disciplinarian when on duty, a thoroughly brave man, but not much of a seaman;—he was of a happy turn of mind himself, and nothing afforded him greater pleasure than to see everybody else, happy around him. On service no one could be more strict; but he loved to see his officers surround his mahogany; and not one amongst them was more jovial than Lord Eustace Dash.
On the evening in question, Old Parallel had glanced at the glowing clouds in the west; but the invitation to the captain's cabin had driven the circumstances from his remembrance, and, whilst clinging to port, he thought but little of a storm at sea. Mr. Sinnitt was the lieutenant of the watch; but on such occasions, when there was no apprehension of danger, the mate was allowed to assume the command of the deck, and his superior joined his messmates over the flowing bowl.