This is in the long-ago, or, to be exact, in July, 1759. The new brig _Friendship_, not a fortnight off the stocks, is lying in her home harbor of Whitehaven, being fitted to her first suit of sails. Captain Bennison is restlessly about her decks, overseeing those sea-tailors, the sail-makers, as they go forward with their task, when Mr. Younger, the owner, comes aboard. The latter gentleman is lowland Scotch, stout, middle-aged, and his severe expanse of smooth-shaven upper-lip tells of prudence, perseverance and Presbyterianism in even parts, as traits dominant of his character. “Dick,” says Mr. Younger, addressing Captain Bennison, “ye’ll have a gude brig; and mon! ye s’uld have a gude c…
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