" And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL. ” “Why?” asked Hetty. Her eyes were wide and bright. "The glass never sinks in that way, d'ye see, without a hurricane follerin', I've knowed it often do so in the West Injees. The barometer says nothing, neither the sky nor the water; the skipper has the "feel" that out yonder there's a big blow moving.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExOS4xNjAuMTgxIC0gMzAtMDktMjAyNCAxMDowNjoyOSAtIDE1NzQxMDQ4MTI=
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 30-09-2024 04:08:44