echoes the poor chambermaid, who is
wedged fast in a similar situation at the other. "Where's my cloak,
chambermaid?" "I'd find it, ma'am, if I could move." "Chambermaid, my
basket!" "Chambermaid, my parasol!" "Chambermaid, my carpet-bag!"
"Mamma, they push me so!" "Hush, child; crawl under there and lie still
till I can undress you." At last, however, the various distresses are
over, the babies sink to sleep, and even that much-enduring being, the
chambermaid, seeks out some corner for repose. Tired and drowsy, you are
just sinking into a doze, when bang! goes the boat against the sides of
a lock; ropes scrape, men run and shout; and up fly the heads of all the
top-shelfites, who are generally the more juvenile and airy part of the
company.

"What's that! what's that!" flies from mouth to mouth; and forthwith
they proceed to awaken their respective relations. "Mother! Aunt Hannah!
do wake up; what is this awful noise?" "Oh, only a lock." "Pray, be
still," groan out the sleepy members from below.

"A lock!" exclaim the vivacious creatures, ever on the alert for
information; "and what _is_ a lock, pray?"

"Don't you know what a lock is, you silly creatures. Do lie down and go
to sleep."

"But say, there ain't any _danger_ in a lock, is there?" respond the
querists. "Danger!" exclaims a deaf old lady, poking up her head.
"What's the matter? There hain't nothing burst, has there?" "No, no,
no!" exclaim the provoked and despairing opposition party, who find that
there is no such thing as going to sleep till they have made the old
lady below and the young ladies above understand exactly the philosophy
of a lock. After a while the conversation again subsides; again all is
still; you hear only the trampling of horses and the rippling of the
rope in the water, and sleep again is stealing over you. You doze, you
dream, and all of a sudden you are startled by a cry, "Chambermaid! wake
up the lady that wants to be set ashore." Up jumps chambermaid, and up
jump the lady and two children, and forthwith form a committee of
inquiry as to ways and means. "Where's my bonnet?" says the lady, half
awake and fumbling among the various articles of that name. "I thought I
hung it up behind the door." "Can't you find it?" says the poor
chambermaid, yawning and rubbing her eyes. "Oh, yes, here it is," says
the lady; and then the cloak, the shawl, the gloves, the shoes, receive
each a separate discussion. At last all seems ready, and they b