broke down. He says:

"Oh, dang it now, _don't_ take on so; we all has to have our troubles,
and this 'n 'll come out all right. What's the matter with 'em?"

"They're--they're--are you the watchman of the boat?"

"Yes," he says, kind of pretty-well-satisfied like. "I'm the captain
and the owner and the mate and the pilot and watchman and head
deck-hand; and sometimes I'm the freight and passengers. I ain't as
rich as old Jim Hornback, and I can't be so blame' generous and good
to Tom, Dick, and Harry as what he is, and slam around money the way
he does; but I've told him a many a time 't I wouldn't trade places
with him; for, says I, a sailor's life's the life for me, and I'm
derned if _I'd_ live two mile out o' town, where there ain't nothing
ever goin' on, not for all his spondulicks and as much more on top of
it. Says I--"

I broke in and says:

"They're in an awful peck of trouble, and--"

"_Who_ is?"

"Why, pap and mam and sis and Miss Hooker; and if you'd take your
ferryboat and go up there--"

"Up where? Where are they?"

"On the wreck."

"What wreck?"

"Why, there ain't but one."

"What, you don't mean the _Walter Scott?"_

"Yes."

"Good land! what are they doin' _there_, for gracious sakes?"

"Well, they didn't go there a-purpose."

"I bet they didn't! Why, great goodness, there ain't no chance for 'em
if they don't git off mighty quick! Why, how in the nation did they
ever git into such a scrape?"

"Easy enough. Miss Hooker was a-visiting up there to the town--"

"Yes, Booth's Landing--go on."

"She was a-visiting there at Booth's Landing, and just in the edge of
the evening she started over with her nigger woman in the horse-ferry
to stay all night at her friend's house, Miss What-you-may-call-her--I
disremember her name--and they lost their steering-oar, and swung
around and went a-floating down, stern first, about two mile, and
saddle-baggsed on the wreck, and the ferryman and the nigger woman and
the horses was all lost, but Miss Hooker she made a grab and got
aboard the wreck. Well, about an hour after dark we come along down in
our trading-scow, and it was so dark we didn't notice the wreck till
we was right on it; and so _we_ saddle-baggsed; but all of us was
saved but Bill Whipple--and oh, he _was_ the best cretur!--I most wish
't it had been me, I do."

"My George! It's the beatenest thing I ever struck. And _then_ what
did you all do?"

"Well, we hollered and took on, b