bottom of boats of every
description, and heard, at the same time, lightening his labour with his
variety of song. I often called there on my way up and down the river,
and occasionally passed a few hours listening to his yarns, which, like
his songs, appeared to be inexhaustible.

With respect to myself, it would be more a narrative of feelings than of
action. My life glided on as did my wherry--silently and rapidly. One
day was but the forerunner of another, with slight variety of incident
and customers. My acquaintance, as the reader knows, were but few, and
my visits occasional. I again turned to my books during the long summer
evenings, in which Mary would walk out, accompanied by Tom and other
admirers. Mr Turnbull's library was at my service, and I profited
much. After a time reading became almost a passion, and I was seldom
without a book in my hand. But although I improved my mind, I did not
render myself happier. On the contrary, I felt more and more that I had
committed an act of egregious folly in thus asserting my independence.
I felt that I was superior to my station in life, and that I had lived
with those who were not companions--that I had thrown away, by foolish
pride, those prospects of advancement which had offered themselves, and
that I was passing my youth unprofitably. All this crowded upon me more
and more every day, and I bitterly repented, as the Dominie told me that
I should, my spirit of independence--now that it was too late. The
offers of Mr Drummond were never renewed, and Mr Turnbull, who had
formed the idea that I was still of the same opinion, and who, at the
same time, in his afflicted state--for he was a martyr to the
rheumatism--naturally thought more of himself and less of others, never
again proposed that I should quit my employment. I was still too proud
to mention my wishes, and thus did I continue plying on the river,
apathetic almost as to gain, and only happy when, in the pages of
history or among the flowers of poetry, I could dwell upon times that
were past, or revel in imagination. Thus did reading, like the snake
which is said to contain in its body a remedy for the poison of its
fangs, become, as it enlarged my mind, a source of discontent at my
humble situation; but, at the same time, the only solace in my
unhappiness, by diverting my thoughts from the present. Pass, then,
nearly two years, reader, taking the above remarks as an outline, and
filling up the