fun, and good
natured.

"A nice little pedestal, labelled 'Our Hero,' will be built out of the
ladies' admiration, and given to him to pose on," said Mr. Doremus.
"However, I must say for the gentleman,--though I've only seen him
dripping wet, and shaking himself like a big dog,--he didn't give me
the impression of being the sort of chap to say 'thank you' for the
perch."

"Of course he isn't!" said I. "But I do think it's a shame if he's left
out when subscriptions are going round. Of course he must be poor, or
he wouldn't be travelling in the steerage. Something ought to be done
to show him that the passengers admire his bravery--not anything
_fulsome_, but something _nice_."

"I guess you don't know the American disposition yet, as well as you
will after you've wrestled with it on its native heath for a few
months," remarked Mr. Doremus in his quaint way. "That chap down in the
steerage _is_ an American, whatever else he may be, or I'll eat my best
hat; and I wouldn't for five cents be in the deputation to present him
with the something 'not fulsome but nice' on a little silver salver. I
should expect him to give me the frosty mitt."

This expression struck me as being so funny that I burst out laughing,
though I had to stop and think for a second before I could quite see
what Mr. Doremus really meant; but I wouldn't forget my point in a
laugh.

"Perhaps it wouldn't do to offer money," I went on. "Suppose we got up
a subscription to buy him a second-class passage for the rest of the
way. That would show appreciation, wouldn't it?"

"It would," replied Mr. Doremus, gravely, "and if you'll start the
subscription, Lady Betty, it'll go like wildfire."

"Very well, then, I will," said I. "Though I'd rather someone else did
it."

"It wouldn't be so popular from any other quarter. I'll help you. We'll
go floating around together and pass the plate; and if you like, I'll
do the talking."

I agreed to this, and if I'd thought about it at all, I should have
supposed that Mrs. Ess Kay would be as pleased as Punch with such an
arrangement, because Mr. Doremus, as a relative of Mrs. Van der
Windt's, is the only man on board to whom she makes herself agreeable.
It appears that he has started several fashions in New York, the most
important being to drive in some park they have there, without a hat.
But probably if the truth were known, he lost it, like the fox that
tried to make his friends chop off their tails.

Mr