o come down. I
then blackened my face and hands, and made myself look like a deck-
hand. I had hardly finished my disguise, when a terrible rumpus
up stairs warned me that the ball was open. The whisky was beginning
to do its work. They searched everywhere; kicked in the state-room
doors, turned everything upside down, and raised h--l generally.
If they could have caught me then, it would have been good bye
George. They came down on deck, walked past, and inquired of a
roustabout who stood by me if he had seen a well-dressed man on
deck. He told them "he had not seen any gemman down on deck afore
they came down." They had their guns out, and were swearing
vengeance. The boat was plowing her way along up the river; the
stevedores were hurrying the darkies to get up some freight, as a
landing was soon to be made. The whistle blew, and the boat was
headed for shore. Those devils knew I would attempt to leave the
boat, so as soon as the plank was put out they ran over on the
bank, and closely scanned the face of every one who got off. There
was a lot of plows to be discharged, so I watched my chance,
shouldered a plow, followed by a long line of coons, and I fairly
flew past the mob. I kept on up the high bank and threw my plow
on to the pile, and then I made for the cotton fields. I lay down
on my back until the boat was out of sight, and then I came out,
washed myself white, and took a boat for Vicksburg, where I met
Clark the next day, and we divided the boodle that he had brought
with him. He told me that after I had left the boat they got lights
and went down into the hold, looking for me, as they were sure I
was still on the boat. It was a pretty close call, but they were
looking for a well-dressed man, and not a black deck-hand.

HARD BOILED EGGS.

I was going from Baton Rouge to New Orleans on the steamer _Grand
Duke_, one New Year's eve, and had spent a great deal of money at
the bar for wine. The barkeeper was an Italian with a great name,
which was Napoleon. I said to him, "Nap, I hear you have sixty
dozen eggs on board; suppose you treat me to an eggnog." "Oh, no;
me no treat; if you pay, me make some." "If you don't treat me to
an eggnog, I will quit buying wine," I said, and walked out. I
went to Daniel Findlay, the steward, and told him how stingy old
"Nap" was to me. Dan said, "Never mind, George; I'll fix him and
his eggs." He told the cook to fire up, and then get those sixty
do