seven, the fires having burned out in the furnace, and the
stevedores having gone away, leaving a quantity of freight yet on the
dock, without advising this time with the clerk, I had my baggage
re-transferred to the hotel.

A similar performance was repeated on Tuesday.

On Wednesday I found the berth I had engaged occupied by a very strong
man, who was not very polite when I informed him that I believed there
was some mistake,--that the berth he was using had been engaged to me. I
went to the clerk, who said that he was sorry, but that, as I had not
stayed on board that night, and had not paid for the berth, he had not
been sure that I should go, and he had, therefore, given it to the
gentleman who now had it in possession, and whom, he thought, it would
not be best to try to reason out of it. He was very busy, he observed,
because the boat was going to start at four o'clock; if I would now pay
him the price of passage, he would do the best he could for me. When he
had time to examine, he would probably put me in some other state-room,
perhaps quite as good a one as that I had lost. Meanwhile, he kindly
offered me the temporary use of his private state-room. I inquired if it
was quite certain that the boat would get off at four; for I had been
asked to dine with a friend at three o'clock. There was not the smallest
doubt of it,--at four they would leave. They were all ready at that
moment, and only waited till four because the agent had advertised that
they would,--merely a technical point of honor.

But, by some error of calculation, I suppose, she didn't go at four. Nor
at five. Nor at six.

At seven o'clock the "Swamp Fox" and the "St. Charles" were both
discharging dense smoke from their chimneys, blowing steam, and ringing
bells. It was obvious that each was making every exertion to get off
before the other. The captains of both boats stood at the break of the
hurricane-deck, apparently waiting in great impatience for the mails to
come on board.

The "St. Charles" was crowded with passengers, and her decks were piled
high with freight. Bumboatmen, about the bows, were offering shells, and
oranges, and bananas; and newsboys, and peddlers, and tract distributors
were squeezing about with their wares among the passengers. I had
confidence in their instinct; there had been no such numbers of them the
previous evenings, and I made up my mind, although past seven o'clock,
that the "St. Charles" would not let her