Christmas At Sea

were frozen hard and they cut the naked hand. The decks were like a slide where a seamen scarce could stand. The wind was a nor western blowing squally off the seam and cliffs and spouting breakers were the only things are leave. They heard the surfer roaring before the break of day but was only with a peep of light we saw

How ill we lay. We tumbled every hand on deck in stanter with a shout and we gave other main topsal and stood by to go about. All day we tacked and tacked between the south head and the north. All day we hauled the frozen sheets and got no further forth. All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread, for very life and

nature we tacked from head to head. We gave the south the wider birth, for there the tide race roared, but every tack we made we brought the north head closer board. So as we saw the The cliffs and houses and the breakers running high and the coast guard in his garden with his glass against his eye.

The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean foam. The good red fires burning bright in every long shore home. The windows sparkled clear and the chimneys volied out and I vow we sniffed the victuals as the vessel went about.

The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial cheer, for it's just that I should tell you how of all days in the year. This day of our adversity was blessed Christmas morn, and the house above the coast guards was the house where I was born.