Let A Fool Be Made Serviceable According

The Sea Never Changes And Its Works, For All The Talks Of Men, Are Wrapped In Mystery.

The Old River In Its Broad Reach Rested Unruffled At The Decline Of Day, After Ages Of Good Service Done To The Race That Peopled Its Banks, Spread Out In The Tranquil Dignity Of A Waterway Leading To The Uttermost Ends Of The Earth.

She Feared The Unknown As We All Do, And Her Ignorance Made The Unknown Infinitely Vast.

The Nellie, A Cruising Yawl, Swung To Her Anchor Without A Flutter Of The Sails, And Was At Rest. The Flood Had Made, The Wind Was Nearly Calm, And Being Bound Down The River, The Only Thing For It Was To Come And Wait For The Turn Of The Tide.

Violence Is Not A Catalyst But A Diversion.