loved scenes of home. He was edified and amused with the
ever-varying succession of objects which presented themselves, as the
Chalmetta progressed. Flat-boats and steamers, plantations and
cotton-wood groves, islands and cut-offs, were all objects of interest.
And, when he was tired of these, "Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress," which
was his constant travelling companion, afforded him all the excitement
his contented disposition required. The time promised to be easily
disposed of, even if the passage should be unusually prolonged. Besides,
the number and variety of dispositions on board afforded him some study,
and some instruction. There were men of all grades of society, and all
degrees of moral worth,--beginning, of course, at a very moderate
standard, and descending to the vilest of the vile, which last were in a
large majority. There were tipplers, and gamblers, and profane swearers,
in abundance; and Uncle Nathan felt, at the bottom of his philanthropic
heart, a desire to lead them from their sins. Not that he was officious
and meddlesome, for he believed in "a time for everything." In his
modest, inoffensive way, no doubt, he sowed the seeds of future
reformation in some wayward heart.

Pat Fegan proved an apt disciple, and already had Uncle Nathan given him
the first lesson in the form of a temperance lecture, which probably had
its effect, as he left the boiler deck without the dram for which he
was supposed to have come up.

"Now, Partrick," said Uncle Nathan, on the evening after Emily's rescue,
"rum never did any one any good."

"'Pon my soul it did, thin,--it makes me happy whin sorra thing else in
the wide world will comfort me," replied Pat.

"But that an't nateral happiness; it an't the sort that comes of doin'
good to your feller-creturs."

"It sinds throuble away--what else is happiness?"

"But how do you feel arterwards? That's the pint."

"Arrah! bad enough, sure. Yous have the betther of me there."

"Then leave it off, Partrick," responded Uncle Nathan, drawing the
pledge from his pocket. "Sign the pledge, and you are safe."

But we need not follow Uncle Nathan in his reformatory lucubrations. Pat
signed the pledge; but whether he had an appreciating sense of the
restraint he imposed upon his appetite we cannot say. Uncle Nathan
thought him saved from his cups, and rejoiced accordingly. Perhaps, if
he had looked a little closer, he might have suspected an interested
motive on the part of Pat.