is youth was he: there was no mischief dreamed
of that he was not an adept in. When not attempting some unknown method
of loading or priming a carbine or pistol, he was perched on the
fore-truck, swinging on the main-gaff, stealing sugar in the pantry,
smoking himself sick with a pipe, or playing pranks on the sailors; and
on a certain occasion, when he tumbled on deck from the
fore-cross-trees--a height that would nearly have killed a mere
mortal--we all treated it as such a capital joke, and laughed so
unmercifully, that the imp sprang to his feet, jumped overboard, and
swam on shore.

The little Rosa was lying calmly at anchor--watch and lookouts at their
stations--awnings closely tented, and veiled around the
quarter-deck--arms and ammunition glittering beneath the light from a
lantern swinging beneath the main boom, while the arrangement for the
banquet was spread in two exact rows, along the lid of an arm-chest,
with camp-stools ranged around. Captain Luigi and his mate brought their
own spoons and white sugar. Our worthy boatswain, Mr. Mills, who came as
lord of the seine, was our common guest, and was spooned and fed from
the general contribution. We fell to and did full justice to the feast,
pleasantly diversified by a narrative from Doctor Barret of his dark
true-love in Boston, and a pitched battle that suddenly arose towards
the close of the entertainment, between Monsieur Gashe and Captain
Luigi's butler, a youthful Swede, called Baron Stockholm, who
incautiously accused the valet of surreptitiously secreting divers
table-knives and crockery, belonging to the Correo. Thereupon the fight
ensued, and when finally concluded, much to the regret of the audience,
our guests withdrew to a canoe, and paddled to their vessel.

Soon after daylight the next morning, the report of a gun came booming
from the Commodore. A large ship was lying becalmed in the offing; by
the aid of the glass we could see the little bright-colored flags
talking to the stranger, and presently our number was displayed, and the
telegraph said, "Prepare to give up the schooner." Alas! shorn of our
honors, we slowly hove up the anchor--made all sail--spliced the
main-brace--and thus ended our fortnight's cruise in the Rosita.

CHAPTER XV.

During the period of our blockade, which lasted but thirty-four days,
there were no demonstrations made by the authorities of Mazatlan, to
pronounce against their government, nor any steps taken o