evergreen oak, that stood on the highest part of the bluff; the ladder was made in this manner: they fastened three parts of a rope to a large branch near the body of the tree; a studding-sail boom was placed upon the ground and lashed to the roots of other trees; to this they fastened three old bull's eyes, rove the rigging through them, and set up their shrouds by the end taut with a Spanish windlass—an extemporaneous machine, but of considerable power, made by sailors with two levers and a piece of small rope; they then rattled the shrouds down (fastened small ropes across to step on), and were provided with an excellent method of ascent.

They next made fast a single block to the top of the tree, rigged a whip, with it hoisted up poles and planks, laid a platform, and railed it in with poles lashed to the limbs of the tree. It was a project of Ned's, Walter having told him about Charlie Bell and his boy companions constructing one somewhat similar in the top of the big maple, on Elm Island. This, however, far exceeded that, inasmuch as they were possessed of rigging and all requisite materials to work with.

Walter, who at first did not feel much interested in the effort, but engaged in it to gratify Ned, soon became very much so in consequence of working on it, and proposed a great many additions to the original conception of Ned, which was merely to construct a lookout, from which, with the excellent glass of the captain, they might see a great distance, and watch the motions of the blockading fleet.

"Ned," said he, "let us make some chairs to sit in; we don't want to sit down flat on the platform."

"Well, that will be nice; but what shall we make them of?"

"Empty bread barrels," replied Walter, who, a Griffin, inherited all the mechanical ingenuity of his race. Forthwith they "roused" the grindstone out of the long-boat, the rusty tools from the tool chest, ground a chisel, draw-shave, and plane-irons, and Walter filed the handsaw.

The tools in order, Ned set to work planing some pieces of boards on one side. Walter took a barrel, and after nailing well the hoops, sawed it across, just above the second hoops, to a depth which left sufficient wood to form the back, being careful to stop at a joint in the staves. He then made a cut of the same depth and height from the ground on the other end and the other side.

All that held the barrel together now was the bilge hoops of each end; these he cut through, when the barrel dropped apart, making two chairs, as far as backs and legs were concerned, but minus the seat. He now took a flat hoop, bent it round the inside of the barrel to the height of the saw-cut, fastened the ends together with a nail, and gave it to Ned. "There, Ned, is the measure of your bottom."

He then by a mark which he had made along the edge of the hoop, proceeded to nail on supports for the seat; Ned, in the mean while, putting the pieces of board side by side, laid the hoop on them, marked out and sawed off the pieces he had planed, trimmed the edge with a draw-shave, fayed in the bottom, and nailed it, while Walter was at work upon another barrel; he then nailed a piece of hoop around the top edge of the back to keep the staves in place, and cut a hole for the hand to move it by. When they had made four they hoisted them to the platform, and sat down with the greatest satisfaction imaginable. The backs were rather low, and perfectly straight; but so were all the chairs of that period; and there was not the least danger of the legs of their chairs coming out. People in those days had not time to loll; there were not so many inventions for the comfort of lazy folks as at the present.

They were soon convinced that their labors possessed a practical value, and were appreciated: the captain, finding the platform an excellent lookout, easy of access, the chairs convenient, took his telescope up, and would sit there and smoke. Walter, noticing this, made a box and fastened it to the railing to keep the telescope in, and protect it from the weather. The crew also went up there; so they made four more chairs to accommodate their company. Mr. Hadlock, the second mate, was very partial to the tree.

"O, Walter," said Ned, as they sat conversing after dinner, "I wish James Peterson was here."

"So do I; he is such a good man, and could tell us so many things, for he knows so much more than Bernoux, and is well acquainted in this country."

"O, isn't he good, Walter! How much he did for me when I was sick!"

"Do you know, Ned, one of the first things I can remember is going down to Peterson's with mother or grandsir (when he was able to walk about), and Luce baking me turnovers, and Peterson making playthings for me. I tell you there wasn't a spear of grass in the path that ran across lots from our house to James's. I used to eat half my meals there; victuals tasted better there than anywhere else. I tell you, Ned, it takes Luce to cook. I heard Lion Ben tell father that if Peterson had received an education, there wouldn't be many ahead of him."

"He thinks a great deal of you, Walter. Don't you remember, the night you was going to be landed on that rock right in the ocean, and left there all alone, how he came forward and insisted on going in your room?"

"There's another I wish was here," said Walter, in a subdued tone, "and who will not be there to shake hands with us when we get home from this voyage."

"Uncle Isaac," said Ned, his eyes filling.

Walter made no answer, and the conversation dropped. After sitting a while in silence, the boys, saddened by the tender and touching associations invoked, left the spot, went on board the vessel, and set to work stopping a leak in the coating of the mainmast. The next day a peasant brought along a straw hive of honey to sell. The boys bought some, and, on going to the tree to eat it, found there the captain and second mate, with whom they shared, as they had purchased no small quantity.

While they were talking and eating, wishing for a gale of wind—a real Gulf of Lyons gale—to scatter the fleet, they saw a man-o'-war get under way, evidently for England, convoying two supply-ships.

The captain ascertained her name through Jacques; and it afterwards appeared that Nelson wrote to his brother by the man-o'-war that the inhabitants of Marseilles and Toulon were starving; that the blockade had been so strict, not even a boat could get into either place or on the coast with provisions. While this brave seaman was battling with the furious gales, heavy seas, thunder, lightning, and squalls of the Mediterranean, Captain Brown, Walter Griffin, Ned Gates, and Sam Hadlock were lying among the foliage of the oak, eating honey and soft bread, or watching him through the glass, and counting the very buttons on his coat, as he stood back and forth along the coast, patient, resolute, faithful to his weary, harassing task, and congratulating himself upon the strictness of the blockade.

"For nineteen weeks," writes he, "my crew have not had a morsel of fresh meat or vegetables; only salt junk, hard bread, and lime-juice."

During all this time, a Yankee brigantine, loaded to the bends with wheat and good yellow corn raised by Captain Rhines, Uncle Isaac, Lion Ben, Charlie Bell, and their neighbors, and pork, beef, saltpetre, and arms bought in England or the British provinces, was lying, almost within gunshot, in a cul-de-sac, where she could not escape if discovered, and coining money for her officers, crew, and owners.

While thus eating and chatting, they were joined by Jacques, who had returned from a visit to his family.

"Pilot," said the captain, "is there any good place near here where we can fill water?"

"Yes, captain; never a better."

The next morning, the water-casks were put into a boat, and Jacques piloted them to the place. It was a lovely spot. Over the edge of a precipice crowned with pines poured, in one broad sheet, a swift mountain torrent into a rocky basin, from which the white froth floated off into the