hen they saw Mr.
Ellerthorpe bearing me ashore, began playing, "See the Conquering Hero
comes."--Robert Tether, July 24th, 1867.'

_Twenty-first and Twenty-second._--GEORGE EMERSON* AND ANN WISE* (1836.)

Emerson, a porter, was conducting Miss Wise, from the 'Magna Charter,'
over a plank, when the plank slipped, and both were precipitated into
the water. The wind was blowing very strong, and the river was extremely
rough at the time. I had just gone into the cabin to change my clothes,
when, hearing such a screaming as I had never before heard, I sprang
upon the paddle-box, and saw Emerson, but knew nothing of the woman who
had also fallen into the water, and whose mother was uttering the most
heart-rending shrieks. I leaped from the paddle-box to save the man,
when, to my surprise, I found I had thrown my legs right _across the
woman's shoulders_! Of course my _first object_ now, was to save _her_.
I hastily dragged her to the side of the packet, and having put her hand
round a piece of iron, I said to her, 'Now hold fast there, for you are
safe.' I then went to a distance in search of Emerson, and having made a
rope fast round him, I was able to hold him up with ease. But the
shouting was as great as ever, and I thought,--surely there is some one
else overboard! The fact was, the people could not see the woman holding
by the iron, and in my efforts to save the man, they thought I had
forgotten her; hence their wild shouts. The engineer came to the
vessel's side and shouted, 'There is the woman yet,' when I replied,
'She's all right, come down to the paddle and take hold of her.' He came
and took her out, when she had a basket on her arm and a pair of pattens
in her hand, just as when she dropped into the water. She suddenly
disappeared from the crowd, and I heard no more of her for seven years.
Mr. G. Lee, editor of the 'Rockingham, advertised the case in his paper
for several weeks, asking the woman, from sheer gratitude, to let him
know her name; but there was no response. When I was master of the 'Ann
Scarborough,' sailing between Barton and Hessle, I had to fetch (one
Sunday afternoon) a gentleman's carriage from Barton to Hessle. We had
scarcely started, when a young woman, who was a passenger, said to me,
'You don't know me, Sir, but I know you.' 'And for what do you know me,
something good or bad?' 'O good, Sir; don't you remember jumping
overboard and saving my life, at Hull? I shall never forget you, and I