ncerned, it did not in the least affect our repose.

The next morning, after capturing old Jack's oyster-boat, which was of
daily occurrence, in a friendly way, at two dollars the hundred, in
company with the Correo, Captain Luigi, we sailed thirty miles down the
coast, but finding the ocean deserted, and not so much as a canoe to be
seen, we beat back; the next day made our official respects to the
frigate, and thence returned to Venados. Here again, in the absence of
more agreeable excitement; we trapped crabs, shot curlew, paddled about
the beach, or amused ourselves hauling the seine. One afternoon, after
taking immense quantities of fine fishes, of every size, shape and
color, one scaly mullet of plethoric caliber, weighing some forty
pounds, leaped five feet out of the net, clearing seine and floats, and
terminated the performance by running a joust full tilt at a big burly
Irishman, breaking the bridge of his nose, and keeling him over and over
in the water like winkin'. "Take him off, be Jasus!" shouted Paddy,
accompanied by fearful struggles in the water. It was rather a ludicrous
incident to all except the sufferer. The same evening we had another
visit from the oystermen, and the trio were more than usually groggy.
Contrary to our advice, Jack determined to face the town once more,
brave the captain of the port, and have a lark, as he said, off the two
hundred and more _pesos_ made on board the Yankee frigate. Away he went,
but, owing to his faculties being somewhat obscured, and mistaking the
channel, the boat got among heavy breakers, was capsized, and stove to
atoms. One man was drowned, old Jack himself water-logged, and drifted
on shore without a dollar, and the next morning was consigned to the
_carcel_ for trading with the enemy. The remaining companion was picked
up at daylight on a reef of rocks, and taken on board our ship; but he,
too, poor follow, met with a violent death eighteen months later.
However, unconscious of old Jack's misfortunes, it did not prevent us
from feasting on his oysters; and the fires of the caboose were soon
sparkling under broiling mullets, roasted potatoes, and what was to be a
_chef d'oeuvre_ of Doctor Barret--a steaming chowder. We were about to
begin a series of naval entertainments. Even our little French
goblin-faced valet, Gashe, devoted his energies for once in his life to
the matter in hand; and, by the way, if ever a being on this earth was
gifted with ubiquity, th