Chapter 2 - Page 2

the smell of powder. When the
lamps are relighted, every one laughs, sniffs, and looks
inquiringly at his neighbor--every one but a stout gentleman, who,
with well-gloved hands folded upon his broad-cloth rotundity,
sleeps on impressively. Had he been innocent, he would
have waked up; for, to slumber in that babe-like manner, with a
car full of giggling, staring, sniffing humanity, was simply
preposterous. Public suspicion was down upon him at once. I doubt
if the appearance of a flat black bottle with a label would have
settled the matter more effectually than did the over dignified
and profound repose of this short-sighted being. His moral neck-
cloth, virtuous boots, and pious attitude availed him nothing,
and it was well he kept his eyes shut, for "Humbug!" twinkled at
him from every window-pane, brass nail and human eye around him.

Eleven P.M.--In the boat "City of Boston," escorted thither by my
car acquaintance, and deposited in the cabin. Trying to look as
if the greater portion of my life had been passed on board boats,
but painfully conscious that I don't know the first thing; so sit
bolt upright, and stare about me till I hear one lady say to
another--"We must secure our berths at once;" whereupon I dart at
one, and, while leisurely taking off my cloak, wait to discover
what the second move may be. Several ladies draw the curtains
that hang in a semi-circle before each nest--instantly I whisk
mine smartly together, and then peep out to see what next.
Gradually, on hooks above the blue and yellow drapery, appear the
coats and bonnets of my neighbors, while their boots and shoes,
in every imaginable attitude, assert themselves below, as if
their owners had committed suicide in a body. A violent creaking,
scrambling, and fussing, causes the fact that people are going
regularly to bed to dawn upon my mind. Of course they are; and so
am I--but pause at the seventh pin, remembering that, as I was
born to be drowned, an eligible opportunity now presents itself;
and, having twice escaped a watery grave, the third immersion
will certainly extinguish my vital spark. The boat is
new, but if it ever intends to blow up, spring a leak, catch
afire, or be run into, it will do the deed to-night, because I'm
here to fulfill my destiny. With tragic calmness I resign myself,
replace my pins, lash my purse and papers together, with my
handkerchief, examine the saving circumference of my hoop, and
look about me for any means of deliverance when the moist moment
shall arrive; for I've no intention of folding my hands and
bubbling to death without an energetic splashing first. Barrels,
hen-coops, portable settees, and life-preservers do not adorn the
cabin, as they