say warny wunst, cuss 'em,
they arn't civil enough for that. They arn't paid for it--there is no
parquisite to be got by it. Won't I tuck in the Champaine to-night,
that's all, till I get the steam up right, and make the paddles work?
Won't I have a lark of the rael Kentuck breed? Won't I trip up a
policeman's heels, thunder the knockers of the street doors, and ring
the bells and leave no card? Won't I have a shy at a lamp, and then off
hot foot to the hotel? Won't I say, 'Waiter, how dare you do that?'

"'What, Sir?'

"'Tread on my foot.'

"'I didn't, Sir.'

"'You did, Sir. Take that!' knock him down like wink, and help him up on
his feet agin with a kick on his western eend. Kiss the barmaid, about
the quickest and wickedest she ever heerd tell of, and then off to bed
as sober as a judge. 'Chambermaid, bring a pan of coals and air my bed.'
'Yes, Sir.' Foller close at her heels, jist put a hand on each short
rib, tickle her till she spills the red hot coals all over the floor,
and begins to cry over 'em to put 'em out, whip the candle out of her
hand, leave her to her lamentations, and then off to roost in no time.
And when I get there, won't I strike out all abroad--take up the room of
three men with their clothes on--lay all over and over the bed, and feel
once more I am a free man and a '_Gentleman at large_.'"

CHAPTER VIII. SEEING LIVERPOOL.

On looking back to any given period of our life, we generally find that
the intervening time appears much shorter than it really is. We see at
once the starting-post and the terminus, and the mind takes in at one
view the entire space.

But this observation is more peculiarly applicable to a short passage
across the Atlantic. Knowing how great the distance is, and accustomed
to consider the voyage as the work of many weeks, we are so astonished
at finding ourselves transported in a few days, from one continent to
another, that we can hardly credit the evidence of our own senses.

Who is there that on landing has not asked himself the question, "Is it
possible that I am in England? It seems but as yesterday that I was in
America, to-day I am in Europe. Is it a dream, or a reality?"

The river and the docks--the country and the town--the people and their
accent--the verdure and the climate are all new to me. I have not been
prepared for this; I have not been led on imperceptibly, by travelling
mile after mile by land from my own home, to accustom my senses to t