ng a hand on each shoulder, jumped over
him.

"Turn round agin, you young sucking Satan, you; and don't give one mite
or morsel, or you might 'break massa's precious neck,' p'raps. Warny
once--warny twice--warny three times."

And he repeated the feat again.

"That's the way I'll shin it up street, with a hop, skip and a jump.
Won't I make Old Bull stare, when he finds his head under my coat tails,
and me jist makin' a lever of him? He'll think he has run foul of a
snag, _I_ know. Lord, I'll shack right over their heads, as they do over
a colonist; only when they do, they never say warny wunst, cuss 'em,
they arn't civil enough for that. They arn't paid for it--there is no
parquisite to be got by it. Won't I tuck in the Champaine to-night,
that's all, till I get the steam up right, and make the paddles work?
Won't I have a lark of the rael Kentuck breed? Won't I trip up a
policeman's heels, thunder the knockers of the street doors, and ring
the bells and leave no card? Won't I have a shy at a lamp, and then off
hot foot to the hotel? Won't I say, 'Waiter, how dare you do that?'

"'What, Sir?'

"'Tread on my foot.'

"'I didn't, Sir.'

"'You did, Sir. Take that!' knock him down like wink, and help him up on
his feet agin with a kick on his western eend. Kiss the barmaid, about
the quickest and wickedest she ever heerd tell of, and then off to bed
as sober as a judge. 'Chambermaid, bring a pan of coals and air my bed.'
'Yes, Sir.' Foller close at her heels, jist put a hand on each short
rib, tickle her till she spills the red hot coals all over the floor,
and begins to cry over 'em to put 'em out, whip the candle out of her
hand, leave her to her lamentations, and then off to roost in no time.
And when I get there, won't I strike out all abroad--take up the room of
three men with their clothes on--lay all over and over the bed, and feel
once more I am a free man and a '_Gentleman at large_.'"

CHAPTER VIII. SEEING LIVERPOOL.

On looking back to any given period of our life, we generally find that
the intervening time appears much shorter than it really is. We see at
once the starting-post and the terminus, and the mind takes in at one
view the entire space.

But this observation is more peculiarly applicable to a short passage
across the Atlantic. Knowing how great the distance is, and accustomed
to consider the voyage as the work of many weeks, we are so astonished
at finding ourselves transported in a