re was a tradition amongst sailors, which I am inclined
to give some credence to, that a certain barber who had a
shop in the Highway availed himself of the opportunity,
while cutting the hair or shaving his sailor
customers--mainly, it was thought, those who were sodden
with drink--to sever their wind-pipe, rob them of all they
had, and then pull the bolt of a carefully concealed
trap-door which communicated with the Thames, and drop their
weighted bodies out of sight! This system of sanguinary
murder is supposed to have been carried on for some years,
until a sailor of great physical power, suspecting foul play
to some of his pals, went boldly in, was politely asked to
take his seat, and assumed a drunken attitude which caused
the barber to think he had an easy victim. The barber wormed
his way into Jack's confidence, who was very communicative
as to the length of his voyage and the amount of money he
had been paid off with. He flattered him with loving
profusion, and was about to take the razor up and commence
his deadly work, when the sailor, who had discerned the
secret trap, jumped up, pulled a revolver from his pocket,
and demanded that the trap-door should be shown to him, or
his brains would be scattered all over the place! The barber
implored that his life should be spared, and piteously
denied the existence of a secret communication with the
river. Jack's attitude was threatening; the supplicant
pleaded that if his life was spared he would do what was
asked of him. The condition was agreed on, and the trap
opened. It disclosed a liquid vault. The sailor accused the
panic-stricken villain of foul murder, and of having this
place as a repository for his unsuspecting victims, and the
man shrieked alternate incoherent denials and confessions.
The sailor suspected the awful truth all along, but now he
became satisfied of it, and forcing the barber towards the
vault, he ordered him to jump down; he had to choose between
this and being shot. He preferred the former mode of
extinction, so plunged in. The hatch was then covered over
him, and there were no more murders.

Another of the many instances of the resourceful mariner's
irrepressible gaiety even under most embarrassing conditions
is contained in a story which I heard related aboard ship in
the early days of my sea-life many times, and the veracity
of it was always vouched for by the narrator whose personal
acquaintance with the gentlemen concerned was an