s resuscitated from a state bordering very nearly upon death (and
after every other means had been tried in vain for three hours and a
half) by vigorous friction with flannels bathed in hot oil--a proceeding
suggested by Augustus. The wound in my neck, although of an ugly
appearance, proved of little real consequence, and I soon recovered from
its effects.

The Penguin got into port about nine o'clock in the morning, after
encountering one of the severest gales ever experienced off Nantucket.
Both Augustus and myself managed to appear at Mr. Barnard's in time for
breakfast--which, luckily, was somewhat late, owing to the party over
night. I suppose all at the table were too much fatigued themselves to
notice our jaded appearance--of course, it would not have borne a very
rigid scrutiny. Schoolboys, however, can accomplish wonders in the way
of deception, and I verily believe not one of our friends in Nantucket
had the slightest suspicion that the terrible story told by some sailors
in town of their having run down a vessel at sea and drowned some thirty
or forty poor devils, had reference either to the Ariel, my companion,
or myself. We two have since very frequently talked the matter over--but
never without a shudder. In one of our conversations Augustus frankly
confessed to me, that in his whole life he had at no time experienced
so excruciating a sense of dismay, as when on board our little boat
he first discovered the extent of his intoxication, and felt himself
sinking beneath its influence.

CHAPTER 2

IN no affairs of mere prejudice, pro or con, do we deduce inferences
with entire certainty, even from the most simple data. It might be
supposed that a catastrophe such as I have just related would have
effectually cooled my incipient passion for the sea. On the contrary, I
never experienced a more ardent longing for the wild adventures incident
to the life of a navigator than within a week after our miraculous
deliverance. This short period proved amply long enough to erase from
my memory the shadows, and bring out in vivid light all the pleasurably
exciting points of color, all the picturesqueness, of the late perilous
accident. My conversations with Augustus grew daily more frequent and
more intensely full of interest. He had a manner of relating his stories
of the ocean (more than one half of which I now suspect to have
been sheer fabrications) well adapted to have weight with one of
my enthusiastic tem