against him that I did not know--that he was
"airy" and given to "brag." It was about dark when I returned, but the
Floridian was still on board.

"I am sorry to hear that Colonel Estwell's house has been burned," said
Cornwood, as I came on deck. "It was doing a good business, and the
fire will be a heavy blow to the Colonel. I suppose you heard nothing
bad about me."

"Nothing very bad. I engage you at the terms you named for the time the
steam-yacht remains in Florida," I added. "You will have a berth in the
forward cabin, and mess with the officers."

"You will have no occasion to regret what you have done," said the
Floridian, confidently.

"I hope not. Now, can you find a waiter for me?" I continued,
explaining the need of additional help in the steward's department.

"A waiter! Fifty more than there are in the city could find places in
one hour," said he, laughing at the apparent absurdity of the question.
"However, as you have applied to me, I have no doubt I can find one for
you."

"Do you think you can?" I asked, rather anxiously. "I have added two
more persons to the company to be cared for at the cabin-table, and we
shall get nothing to eat in the forward cabin if we don't have more
help."

"You shall have a waiter if I have to take him out of the dining-room
of the St. Augustine Hotel," replied Mr. Cornwood, with as much
assurance as though all the waiters in the city were under his charge.

I sent him ashore in the starboard boat; and Buck and Landy, the crew,
were glad to spend an hour in the city. In less than that time the
Floridian returned, and with him was the waiter. When the new man came
into my room to see me, I was not a little surprised to find he was the
same "yellow man" I had seen in the boat that brought off the guide the
first time he boarded the Sylvania.

He was a remarkably good-looking fellow, and I soon ascertained that he
was as intelligent as he was handsome. His name was Griffin Leeds. He
was neither a Spaniard nor an Italian, but an octoroon.

Both the guide and the waiter brought off their baggage in the boat.
Among the effects of Griffin Leeds I noticed a violin-case. Tom Sands,
the cabin-waiter, whom I had obtained at Jacksonville, played the banjo
in the most artistic manner. Neither of the waiters were any common
sort of colored men; and I soon found that race distinctions were
vastly more insisted on by these men than by any white man on board,
unless it was the