ough, he made slow progress. He had not reached the coast
of Maine when the woman's husband arrived. Of course he was astonished
to find a stranger so comfortably installed in his house; but when his
wife explained who the steward was, he became as hospitable and friendly
as his wife had been.

"This is my husband, John Carter," said the woman, as the man of the
house seated himself at the stove.

"My name is Harvey Barth," added the shipwrecked. "I was cook and
steward of the brig Waldo; but she is gone to pieces now."

"Sho! you don't say so!" exclaimed John Carter. "Why, I made a voyage to
Savannah myself in the Waldo, before I was married!"

"You will never make another in her. She broke into two pieces, which
rolled over and went to the bottom," added Harvey.

"You don't say so! Was Captain Barnwood in her?"

"Yes, he was. Cap'n 'Siah, as we all called him--"

"So did we," interposed John Carter, with a smile.

"Cap'n 'Siah was as nice a man as ever trod a quarter-deck."

"So he was."

"He's gone now," sighed Harvey.

"Was he lost?"

"Yes sir; he was knocked stiff by the lightning, with half a dozen
others."

"Sho! Was the brig struck by lightning?"

"She was. It came down the mainmast and knocked the wheel into a
thousand pieces. When the steering-gear gave out, we couldn't do
anything more. I'm the only one of twelve men and a passenger that was
saved."

Harvey Barth commenced his story anew, when the astonishment of John
Carter had abated a little, and gave all the particulars of the voyage
and the wreck and all the details of his personal history since he kept
school in "York State." It was midnight when he had finished, and the
details were discussed for an hour afterwards. Mrs. Carter had brought
on more hot tea, with pie and cheese, and other eatables, which the
steward had consumed in large quantities, for one of the features of his
malady was a ravenous appetite. John Carter, who had been detained at
the village by the violence of the storm, was as hospitable as any one
could be, and Harvey slept that night in the best bed in the house.

After breakfast the next morning he brought out the oil-cloth which
contained his diary. He had carefully concealed it when he changed his
clothes, and he was now anxious to know whether it had escaped serious
injury in the storm. He unfolded the oil-cloth before John Carter and
his wife. To his great satisfaction, he found it unharmed by the floods
of