s on shore, would not be a consummate fool to "go to sea." I
deliberated anxiously on the subject, and finally determined to return
to my home in New Hampshire, and visit my friends before I undertook
another voyage.

The schooner Lydia, of Barnstable, commanded by Captain Burgess, an
honest, noble-hearted son of Cape Cod, was the only vessel in Savannah
at that time bound for Boston. I explained to him my situation, told him
I was anxious to get home, and asked as a favor that he would allow me
to work my passage to Boston.

He replied that he had a full crew for his vessel, even more hands than
could be properly accommodated below, as the cabin and steerage were
both encumbered with bales of cotton. But if I was willing to sleep
on deck, and assist in working ship and doing other duty, he would
cheerfully give me a passage. I accepted his offer on these conditions,
and thanked him into the bargain.

We left Savannah on our way to Boston. My heart beat quicker at the idea
of returning home. The wind proved light and baffling on the passage,
and as we drew towards the north, the weather was foggy with drizzling
rains. My quarters on deck, under the lee of a bale of cotton, were
any thing but comfortable. I often awoke when the watch was called,
shivering with cold, and found it difficult, without an unusual quantity
of exercise, to recover a tolerable degree of warmth.

I uttered no complaints, but bore this continual exposure, night and
day, and other inconveniences, with a philosophical spirit, conceiving
them to be a part of the compact. If the passage had only been of
moderate length, I should, in all likelihood, have reached Boston in
good health; but nineteen days had passed away when we sailed through
the Vineyard Sound, and anchored in the harbor of Hyannis, on the third
of July, 1810.

Some days before we reached Hyannis, I found myself gradually losing
strength. I was visited with occasional fits of shivering, succeeded by
fever heats. But on the morning of the glorious Fourth, I felt my whole
system renovated at the idea of celebrating "Independence Day" on shore.
The captain and mate of the Lydia both belonged to Barnstable, where
their families resided. They both left the schooner for their homes as
soon as the anchor reached the bottom, boldly predicting head winds
or calms for at least thirty-six hours, at the end of which time they
calculated to rejoin the schooner.

On the morning of the fourth,