A bright boy went to sea: he loved it and rose to quick promotion. While quite a young man he became master of a ship. One day a passenger spoke to him upon the voyage, and asked if he should anchor off a certain headland, supposing he would anchor there, and telegraph for a pilot to take the vessel into port.
"Anchor! no, not I. I mean to be in dock with the morning tide."
"I thought perhaps you would signal for a pilot."
"I am my own pilot," was the curt reply. Intent upon reaching port by morning he took a narrow channel to save distance. Experienced sailors on board shook their heads dubiously, while cautious passengers besought the young captain to take a wider course. He only laughed at their fears and declared he would be in dock by daybreak. A sudden squall swooped down upon them; wild alarm spread throughout the vessel. Enough to say that the captain was ashore earlier than he promised--tossed sportively upon the weedy beach, a dead thing that the waves were weary of, and his ship and freight were scattered over the angry sea. The glory of that young man was strength; but he was his own pilot.
