ing on the bitts, forward, with his head down between his knees. I give his shoulder two or three little shoves, and begun to cry.
He stirred up, in a kind of a startlish way; but when he see it was only me, he took a good gap and stretch, and then he says:
"Hello, what's up? Don't cry, bub. What's the trouble?"
I says:
"Pap, and mam, and sis, and"
Then I broke down. He says:
"Oh, dang it, now, don't take on so, we all has to have our troubles and this'n 'll come out all right. What's the matter with 'em?"
"They're—they're—are you the watchman of the boat?"
"Yes," he says, kind of pretty-well-satisfied like. "I'm the captain and the owner, and the mate, and the pilot, and watchman, and head deck-hand; and sometimes I'm the freight and passengers. I ain't as rich as old Jim Hornback, and I can't be so blame' generous and good to Tom, Dick and Harry as what he is, and slam around money the way he does; but I've told him a many a time 't I wouldn't trade places with him; for, says I, a sailor's life's the life for me, and I'm derned if I'd live two mile out o' town, where there ain't nothing ever goin' on, not for all his spondulicks and as much more on top of it. Says I"
I broke in and says:
"They're in an awful peck of trouble, and"
"Who is?"
"Why, pap, and mam, and sis, and Miss Hooker; and if you'd take your ferry-boat and go up there"
"Up where? Where are they?"
"On the wreck."
"What wreck?"
"Why, there ain't but one."
"What, you don't mean the Walter Scott?"
"Yes."
"Good land! what are they doin' there, for gracious sakes?"
"Well, they didn't go there a-purpose."
"I bet they didn't! Why, great goodness, there ain't no chance for 'em if
