MARTIN RATTLER. 41

of the harbour, and in another moment she was
aground.

“There, now, she’s hard and fast!” roared the cap-
tain, as he stormed about the deck in a paroxysm of
rage. But man’s rage could avail nothing. They
had missed the passage by a few feet, and now they
had to wait the fall and rise again of the tide ere
they could hope to get off.

In the confusion that followed, Bob Croaker sug-
gested that Martin and he should take one of the
punts, or small boats, which hovered round the vessel,
and put out to sea, where they might spend the day
pleasantly in rowing and fishing.

“Capital!” exclaimed Martin. “Let’s go at once.
Yonder’s a little fellow who will let us have his punt
for a few pence. I know him.—Hallo, Tom !”

“Ay, ay,” squeaked a boy, who was so small that
he could scarcely lift the oar, light though it was,
with which he sculled his punt cleverly along.

“Shove alongside, like a good fellow; we want
your boat for a little to row out a bit.”

“It’s a-blowin’ too hard,” squeaked the small boy,
as he ranged alongside. “I’m afeard you'll be
blowed out.”

“ Nonsense!” cried Bob Croaker, grasping the rope

which the boy threw to him, “Jump on board,