doing duty for wharf-boat and hotel, in case of passengers
landing at unseasonable hours of the night. Thanks also to the great
commercial activity of the larger towns above, the monotony of the river
is occasionally relieved by the sight of steam-boats, barges,
coal-boats, salt-boats, &c. Now and then one's heart is cheered and
one's spirits fortified by the sight of a vessel or two that has been
snagged, and which the indignant stream appears to have left there as a
gentle hint for travellers.

Thus the day passes on, and, when night closes in, you bid adieu to your
friends, not with "Pleasant dreams to you!" but with a kind of
mysterious smile, and a "I hope we sha'n't be snagged to-night!" You
then retire to your cabin, and ... what you do there depends on
yourself; but a man whose mind is not sobered when travelling on these
waters is not to be envied.

When you leave your cabin in the morning, as you enter the saloon, you
fancy a cask of spirits has burst. A little observation will show you
your mistake, and the cause of it; which is merely that the free and
enlightened are taking their morning drink at the bar. Truly they are a
wonderful race; or, as they themselves sometimes express it, "We are a
tall nation, sir; a big people." Though they drink on all occasions,
whether from sociability or self-indulgence, and at all times, from rosy
morn to dewy eve, and long after;--though breath and clothes are "alive"
with the odour of alcohol, you will scarcely ever see a passenger drunk.
Cards are also going all day long, and there is generally a
Fancy-man--or blackleg--ready to oblige a friend. These card-playings
are conducted quietly enough at present; but an old traveller told me he
remembered, some fifteen years ago, when things were very different, and
when every player came armed with a pistol and bowie-knife, by which all
little difficulties as to an odd trick or a bet were speedily settled on
the spot. In those days the sun never rose and set without witnessing
one or more of these exciting little adjustments of difficulties, with
which the bystanders were too good judges ever to interfere. In fact,
they seem to have been considered as merely pleasing little breaks in
the monotony of the trip.

As it may interest some of _my_ readers, I will endeavour to retail for
their amusement a sketch which was given me of a scene of boat-racing in
the olden time. The "Screecher" was a vessel belonging to Louisville,
hav