he flute a little, and we might try some
pieces together some time, if you are willing."

As they were making ready for bed that night, the pleasant-faced young
man from Baltimore, who had been playing whist with his mother and
sister, and the "military man," as the boys had privately named one
of the party, came to their door with his flute. The two musicians
were fast friends at once. Flute and violin made delicious harmony, in
the midst of which Sandy, who had slipped into his bunk, drifted off
into the land of dreams with confused notions of a giant band
somewhere up in the sky playing "Oh, Susannah!" "Love's Last
Greeting," and "How Can I Leave Thee?" with occasional suggestions of
the "Song of the Kansas Emigrants."

Another morning came on, cold, damp, and raw. The sky was overcast and
there were signs of rain. "There's been rain to the nor'rard," said
Captain Bulger, meditatively. Now Captain Bulger was the skipper of
the "New Lucy," and when he said those oracular words, they were
reported about the steamboat, to the great comfort of all on board.
Still the five boats stuck on the shoals; their crews were still hard
at work at all the devices that could be thought of for their
liberation. The "War Eagle"--for they had found out the name of the
musical steamer far down stream--enlivened the tedious day with her
occasional strains of martial and popular music, if the steam-organ
could be called musical.

In the afternoon, Oscar and the amiable young man from Baltimore shut
themselves in their stateroom and played the flute and violin. The
lovely lady who had made Sandy's acquaintance early in the voyage
asked him if he could make one at a game of whist. Sandy replied that
he could play "a very little." The thought of playing cards here on a
steamboat, in public, as he said to himself, was rather frightful. He
was not sure if his mother would like to have him do that. He looked
uneasily around to see what Charlie would say about it. But Charlie
was nowhere in sight. He was wandering around, like an uneasy ghost,
watching for signs of the rising of the river, now confidently
predicted by the knowing ones among the passengers.

"My boys all play whist," said the lady, kindly; "but if you do not
like to play, I will not urge you. We lack one of making up a party."

Sandy had been told that he was an uncommonly good player for one so
young. He liked the game; there would be no stakes, of course. With
his ready h