good gal--read the letter as fast as you
can--read it at a trot."

"Deacon Israel Pratt--Dear sir," continued Mary, in obedience to this
command, "the two schooners sailed from Beaufort, North Carolina, as
stated already per mail, in a letter written at that port, and which has
doubtless come to hand. We had fine weather and a tolerable run of it,
until we reached the calm latitudes, where we were detained by the usual
changes for about a week. On the 18th Oct. the pleasant cry of 'there she
spouts' was heard aboard here, and we found ourselves in the neighbourhood
of whales. Both schooners lowered their boats, and I was soon fast to a
fine bull, who gave us a long tow before the lance was put into him, and
he was made to spout blood. Captain Daggett set up some claims to this
fish, in consequence of his line's getting foul of the creature's jaws,
but he changed his mind in good season, and clapped on to help tow the
whale down to the vessel. His irons drew from a young bull, and a good
deal of dissatisfaction existed among the other crew, until, fortunately,
the school of young bulls came round quite near us, when Captain Daggett
and his people succeeded in securing no less than three of the fish, and
Mr. Hazard got a very fine one for us.

"I am happy to say that we had very pleasant weather to cut in, and
secured every gallon of the oil of both our whales, as did Captain Daggett
all of his. Our largest bull made one hundred and nineteen barrels, of
which forty-three barrels was head-matter. I never saw better case and
junk in a whale in my life. The smallest bull turned out well too, making
fifty-eight barrels, of which twenty-one was head. Daggett got one hundred
and thirty-three barrels from his three fish, a very fair proportion of
head, though not as large as our own. Having this oil on board, we came in
here after a pleasant run; and I have shipped, as per invoice enclosed,
one hundred and seventy-seven barrels of spermaceti oil, viz., sixty-four
barrels of head, and rest in body-oil, to your order, care of Fish &
Grinnell, New York, by the brig Jason, Captain Williams, who will sail for
home about the 20th proximo, and to whom I trust this letter"--

"Stop, Mary, my dear--this news is overpowering--it is almost too good to
be true," interrupted the deacon, nearly as much unmanned by this
intelligence of his good fortune as he had previously been by his
apprehensions. "Yes, it does seem too good to be true; re