I seed many strange things in them years--outlandish people an' cities, storms, shipwracks, an' battles.

I seed many a true mate go down, an' sometimes I envied them what went to their rest.

But these things is neither here nor there.
"About a year ago I shipped on board the Belphoebe yonder, an' of all the strange winds as ever blowed, the strangest an' the best was the wind as blowed me to this here blessed spot.

I can't be too thankful.
That I'm as thankful as it is possible for an uneddicated man to be, He knows as reads the heart of all." Here ended Sailor Ben's yarn, which I have written down in his own homely words as nearly as I can recall them.

After he had finished, the Captain shook hands with him and served out the ale.
As Kitty was about to drink, she paused, rested the cup on her knee, and asked what day of the month it was.
"The twenty-seventh," said the Captain, wondering what she was driving at.
"Then," cried Kitty, "it's ten years this night sence--" "Since what ?" asked my grandfather.
"Sence the little lass and I got spliced!" roared Sailor Ben.