s of thick, stifling vapour, and the two pilot-houses, one at each
extremity of the hurricane deck; for, like most American river steamers,
the boat was what was called a "double-ender," built whale-boat fashion
to go either backwards or forwards, a very necessary thing to avoid
collision in crowded waters.

Fritz could not but realise that the ingenious construction which he was
gazing at was essentially a Yankee invention, resembling nothing in
European waters.

If he had not yet been fully convinced of this fact, the eldritch
screech which the steam whistle shortly evolved, in obedience to the
pressure of the captain's finger on a valve in the pilot-house forward--
whence the vessel was steered--would have at once decided his mind on
the point. It was the most fearful, ear-deafening, blood-curdling sound
he had ever heard in his life!

Fritz thought something had happened--that the boiler was in danger of
bursting, or the vessel sinking at the least--but, on making a startled
inquiry of the nearest person, he was reassured by learning that the
"whistle," as the frightful noise was called, was only emitted in
courteous salutation to another steamer passing in the distance, bound
down to New York; and soon, an answering squeal from the boat in
question, mercifully tempered by the distance into a faint squeak that
lent more "enchantment" to its notes than was possessed by the one which
had just startled him, corroborated the truth of this statement.

After enjoying the scenery from the hurricane deck for some little time,
Fritz made his way below to the forward part of the main deck running
into the bows, where he had noticed, while looking down from above, his
friend the deck hand of the Garibaldi shirt and blue cotton check
trousers--or "pants" as the man would himself probably have called these
garments.

He was busily engaged coiling down ropes and otherwise making himself
useful, singing the while in a light-hearted way a queer sort of serio-
comic and semi-sentimental ditty, the most curious composition Fritz had
ever come across.

He, therefore, could not help laughing when the singer arrived at the
end of his lay.

The man turned round at once on hearing the sound of his merriment.

"Nice song, that," said Fritz, as soon as he could compose his face
sufficiently to speak. "Just the sort of tender tone about it that I
like!"

"None o' your gas, mister," replied the other with a smile, which showed
t