"And, uncle, is there not more or less land around the ocean?"
said Magnet quickly; for she dreaded a premature display of the
old seaman's peculiar dogmatism, not to say pedantry.

"No, child, there is more or less ocean all round the land;
that's what I tell the people ashore, youngster. They are living,
as it might be, in the midst of the sea, without knowing it; by
sufferance, as it were, the water being so much the more powerful
and the largest. But there is no end to conceit in this world:
for a fellow who never saw salt water often fancies he knows more
than one who has gone round the Horn. No, no, this earth is pretty
much an island; and all that can be truly said not to be so is
water."

Young Western had a profound deference for a mariner of the ocean,
on which he had often pined to sail; but he had also a natural
regard for the broad sheet on which he had passed his life, and
which was not without its beauties in his eyes.

"What you say, sir," he answered modestly, "may be true as to the
Atlantic; but we have a respect for the land up here on Ontario."

"That is because you are always land-locked," returned Cap, laughing
heartily; "but yonder is the Pathfinder, as they call him, with
some smoking platters, inviting us to share in his mess; and I will
confess that one gets no venison at sea. Master Western, civility
to girls, at your time of life, comes as easy as taking in the
slack of the ensign halyards; and if you will just keep an eye to
her kid and can, while I join the mess of the Pathfinder and our