[Illustration: THE YOUNG NAVIGATORS. ]

HURRAH FOR NEW ENGLAND!

OR

THE VIRGINIA BOY'S VACATION. 

BY THE AUTHOR OF

"THE BOY OF SPIRIT" "WHEN ARE WE HAPPIEST?" ETC. 

CONTENTS

LETTER I. THE DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION II. FITTING OUT FOR THE CRUISE III. OUR MESSMATES IV. TALK ABOUT GREAT MEN V. OLD JACK VI. VISIT TO THECUNARD STEAMER VII. MOODY DICK'S SISTER LOUISA VIII. DAVID'S GLIMPSE OFNOBILITY IX. BOSTON LIONS

HURRAH FOR NEW ENGLAND!

LETTER I. 

THE DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION. 

FROM PIDGIE TO HIS COUSIN BENNIE. 

Marblehead, July 1st, 1846. 

Do you remember, my dear cousin, how scornfully we used to look at"little crooked Massachusetts, " as we called it, on the map, whilecomparing the other States with good old Virginia? I don't believe thatwe ever even noticed such a town in it as Marblehead; and yet here I am, in that very place; and though I love our noble State as well as ever, Iam beginning to think that there are some other places in the world fitto live in. I don't mean, though, that I have the smallest inclinationto take up my abode in this town, but I should like to have you see it, for it is the funniest place you can imagine. The old, queer-lookinghouses seem to be placed cornerwise on the most crooked of streets, allup hill and down, and winding around so that I begin to think they havelost themselves and will come to a stop, when out they start, frombehind some red or green house which they had run around just for fun. Then there are _heaps_, as we Southerners say, of droll little childrenrunning about, some of them quite nicely dressed, with no servant totake care of them; and yesterday, on the rocks that look out upon theocean, I met a little boy who could scarcely walk tottling along besideone but little older, as independent and happy as if he might not at anytime fall and hit his little white head against one of the sharp stones. They say that some of our most distinguished Congressmen, and even ourUnited States Senators, have been brought up in this way, and though Idon't see how these boys can ever learn to be polished gentlemen whenthey mix with all sorts of children, yet some of them are asintelligent as if they had done nothing but read all their lives, and asbrave as their sailor fathers. 

Yesterday a fishing-vessel came in, which had been out for severalmonths, and I spied a little fellow clambering down a ladder, placed upto one of the tall chimneys, as fast as he could go, and then, startingout the door like lightning, he was by the water-side before the boattouched the shore, and his mother was not far behind him. 

But how I am carried away by what is around me! I forget that you don'teven know how I came to be here, and while I am writing are perhapswondering all the time if I am not playing a trick upon you, after all, and dating from some place where I never expect to be. But I am in realearnest, Bennie, and will try and tell you, as soberly as I can, how Ihappen to be here. 

You remember, the day that Uncle Bob brought the horse home for me toride to Benevenue, he said something about Master Clarendon's not beingable to ride Charlie much of late, so that I would find him rather gay. When I got to the place, I found every thing in confusion, and Dr. Medway talking very earnestly with brother Clarendon, who was lookingquite thin, and not at all pleased. 

"I should think a voyage to Europe would be quite as beneficial, " hesaid, turning to the Doctor, with his proudest air, as soon as he hadgreeted me. 

"No, " replied Dr. Medway, smiling at his displeased manner; "you musthave work, Sir, --hard work, and hard fare. It would do you no more goodto take a luxurious trip in a steamer, than to remain quietly in yourfashionable lodgings at Baltimore. Your dyspepsia, Sir, can be bestcured by your taking a cruise in a Yankee fishing-smack, bound for theBanks of Newfoundland. "

"Then I shall die, " said Clarendon; "and I had almost as lief, as to becooped up in a dirty fishing-smack with vulgar sailors, half-starvedwith their miserable fare. "

"It will do you good in more ways than one, " observed Dr. Medway; andhe gave mother a significant look. "We poor Virginians think itimpossible to exist except in a certain way; but you are a young man ofsense, in spite of your prejudices, and will be very much benefited by alittle more familiar intercourse with your fellow-men. "

As I stood by, listening to this conversation, I was not surprised atClarendon's reluctance to follow Dr. Medway's advice, but much moreastonished when, after arguing the point half an hour longer, he calledfor Sukey, --his old mammy, you know, --and told her to have every thingin readiness for him to leave the next day. 

As soon as the Doctor was gone, Clarendon began to see more plainly thanever the disagreeabilities of the scheme to which he had consented; buthe was too proud to give it up after his word had been pledged. 

"I wish I could find somebody to accompany me on this horrid excursion, "he exclaimed. "Miss Sukey! there's no use putting in my guitar-music. Apretty figure I should cut, strumming away on that, upon the dirty deckof a Down East schooner! I can't have the face to ask any friend toaccompany me. O ho! it's a desperate case!"

All at once, as if a sudden idea had struck him, while pacing the roomimpatiently, he turned to me:--"What say you, Pidgie, to spending theholidays on this fishing excursion?"

You may be sure that I was ready enough to accept the proposal, for youknow I have always been crazy to go on the water, and like seeing newplaces above every thing. 

"Indeed, and double indeed, brother, I would rather go to the Banks withyou, than to see Queen Victoria herself. I'll run and ask 'ma directlyif she can spare me, and if she will, I won't even unpack my valise, butshall be all ready to start in the morning. "

So saying, I darted into 'ma's chamber, and she declares that my eyeswere almost dancing out of my head for joy, when I told her of theproposal. At first she hesitated, for it was a trial to her to part withme so soon again; but you know Clarendon is the pride of her heart, andfor his sake she at last gave her consent. Sister Nannie was grieved athaving both her brothers taken from her, but she is a little woman, andalways ready to make sacrifices for others; so she sat down very quietlyto looking over some of Clarendon's clothes, and though a tear now andthen rolled down her cheek, she would look up from her work with quite apleasant smile. 

Before I had time to realize what had taken place, I was perched up inthe carriage with Clarendon, and in five minutes more had taken leave ofevery thing at home but Uncle Jack, who was driving us to the cars, inwhich we were to start for Baltimore. 

You have heard so much of New York and Boston, that I cannot, probably, tell you any thing new about them, though, to be sure, when there, Ifelt as if the half had not been told me. All the streets and houseslook so nice and comfortable in the New England towns, that I cannotimagine where the poor people live. At the hotel in New York, when Irang the bell, such a nice-looking young gentleman came to our door, that I thought he was a fellow-boarder who had made a mistake in theroom. I asked him, very politely, if he would have the kindness to tellme where any servants were to be found, as they did not answer the bell. 

He stared at this request, and then answered, quite proudly, --"I wait ongentlemen, my young friend; but we are all free men here. "

I cannot get used to this new state of affairs, and should be quite outof patience, having to do so many things for myself, if brotherClarendon did not keep me laughing all the while with his perfect fitsof despair. But he is calling to me to stop writing, for, since here inMarblehead they won't let him have any peace in sleeping till eleveno'clock, he insists on going to bed with the chickens, or he shall diefor want of rest. 

Love to all, men, women, and children, horses and dogs, from youraffectionate cousin, PIDGIE BEVERLEY. 

LETTER II. 

FITTING OUT FOR THE CRUISE. 

TO BENNIE ALLERTON AT BELLISLE. 

Marblehead, July 3d, 1846. 

DEAR BENNIE, --Just now I heard a rolling of small wheels, and then thebarking of a dog. Forgetting where I was, I thought of you and Watch, and walked to the window actually expecting to see you, with Watch inhis new harness, drawing the little wagon. I only saw a strange boy, rolling a wheelbarrow along, with a great Newfoundland dog at his side, which I should have bought for you if I could have sent it back toVirginia. But, after all, you would not have liked it as well as Watch, and I am sure that I don't know of a fault he has, but chasing chickensand every thing else on the road, besides barking all night when themoon shines. 

I always liked moonlight nights, but never knew half how glorious theywere till now. Last evening, Clarendon said, it was too ridiculous forhim to be going to bed when it was so beautiful; so he called to me totake a stroll with him on a cliff, not far from the house, whichcommands a magnificent prospect of the sea. I snatched up my cap in amoment, delighted at the proposition, and ran along at his side, as Ialways have to do, to keep up with his long, fast strides. 

Even brother's melancholy countenance grew animated as he gazed on thescene before us. A bright sheet of water separated the peak on which wewere standing from another rocky ledge, connected with the main land bya narrow strip, called Marblehead Neck, that looked like a wallinclosing the quiet bay. Behind us lay the town, with its strange, wildconfusion of roofs and spires, and to the south we could descry Nahantand Boston, with Cape Cod stretching out beyond them, along thehorizon. My eyes, however, did not rest on the land, but turned to thebroad ocean, which lay beyond the light-house, that stood up like aspectre in the moonlight, and I thought I could spy here and there asail among the many which I had seen that afternoon scattered over thewaves. 

Clarendon sat down on one of the rocks, and his love of the beautifulovercame, at that moment, his dislike to praising any thing in which hehas no personal interest. "This is magnificent, " he said, and commencedrepeating with enthusiasm Byron's address to the ocean, --

 "Roll on, thou dark blue ocean! roll, " &c. 

At the sound of his fine, manly voice, a boy about my age started upfrom a rock near him, and listened to the lines with the most profoundattention. When they were concluded, he remarked with a modest yetindependent air, --"That certainly is very fine, Sir; but we have poetsof our own that can match it. "

Clarendon at first frowned at what he deemed the height ofimpertinence; but as he looked on the boy's broad, open forehead, andfrank, sweet mouth, in which the white teeth glittered as he spoke, hishaughty manner vanished, and he replied quite civilly, --"So you knowsomething about poetry, my little lad. "

"To be sure, Sir, " replied David Cobb, for such I afterwards found to behis name. "How could a boy be two years at the Boston High School andnot know something about it? But I knew Drake's Address to the Flag, andPierpont's Pilgrim Fathers, and Percival's New England, when I was notmore than ten years old. "

"Percival's New England!" said Clarendon, quite contemptuously. "Pray, what could a poet say about such a puny subject as this Yankee land ofyours?"

"Do you not know that poem?" asked David; and we could see, by themoonlight, that there was something very like indignation at suchignorance in his fine dark eyes. 

"Hear it, then, and see if you do not call it poetry. "

If you could only have seen him, Bennie, as he stood on the cliff, withhis rough, sailor-like hat in hand, and the breeze lifting his dark hairfrom his broad forehead, while, looking with absolute fondness on thescene around him, he repeated, --

 "Hail to the land whereon we tread, Our fondest boast! The sepulchre of mighty dead, The truest hearts that ever bled, Who sleep on glory's brightest bed, A fearless host; No slave is here;--our unchained feet Walk freely, as the waves that beat Our coast. 

 "Our fathers crossed the ocean's wave To seek this shore; They left behind the coward slave To welter in his living grave; With hearts unbent, and spirits brave, They sternly bore Such toils as meaner souls had quelled; But souls like these such toils impelled To soar. 

 "Hail to the morn when first they stood On Bunker's height, And, fearless, stemmed the invading flood, And wrote our dearest rights in blood, And mowed in ranks the hireling brood, In desperate fight! O, 'twas a proud, exulting day, For e'en our fallen fortunes lay In light!

 "There is no other land like thee, No dearer shore; Thou art the shelter of the free; The home, the port, of liberty Thou hast been, and shall for ever be, Till time is o'er. Ere I forget to think upon My land, shall mother curse the son She bore. 

 "Thou art the firm, unshaken rock On which we rest; And, rising from thy hardy stock, Thy sons the tyrant's power shall mock, And slavery's galling chains unlock, And free the oppressed; All who the wreath of freedom twine Beneath the shadow of their vine Are blest. 

 "We love thy rude and rocky shore, And here we stand. Let foreign navies hasten o'er, And on our heads their fury pour, And peal their cannon's loudest roar, And storm our land; They still shall find our lives are given To die for home, --and leant on heaven Our hand. "

Did you think that a real Yankee could be so proud of living out ofVirginia? I am sure those we have seen appear to be half ashamed oftheir country, --and to be sure it is not as good as ours; but I couldnot help liking this boy's warm, honest love of his native soil. EvenClarendon admired it, and, when he had done repeating his favoritelines, handed him a silver dollar, saying, --"There! buy yourself a bookof just such poetry, if you choose, and if you can find any in praise ofthe Old Dominion, read it for my sake. "

I knew that brother meant to do a gracious thing; but still there wassomething about David's appearance which would have made me afraid togive him money, and I was not surprised at the indignant flush whichrose to his cheek, or the scornful way in which he threw the poor dollarover the rock into the sea. 

"I am Captain Cobb's son, Sir, " he said very proudly, "and must tellyou, that, though a New England boy is not ashamed of earning money inany honest way, he never takes it as a gift from strangers. I shouldhave pocketed your silver with great pleasure if I had sold you itsworth in fish, or taken you out in the skiff for a day's excursion; butmy mother would scorn me if I had taken alms like a beggar-boy. "

I never saw Clarendon more confused than he was at this speech; yet hehas so much pride himself, that he could not help liking the boy'shonest love of independence. His curiosity was so much excited, that heprolonged the conversation, and discovered that David was the son of thecaptain of the Go-Ahead, the very schooner in which we are to sailto-morrow for Newfoundland. It will he the fourth of July, and thesailors were at first averse to going out upon that day, but concludedto celebrate it on shore in the morning, and depart in the afternoon. David is going to accompany his father on the trip, having studied alittle too hard at school, and it being the custom here to interspersestudy with seasons of labor. 

"You see, " he said, "that I am rigged already sailor-fashion"; and hepointed to his wide trousers, round jacket, and tarpaulin. 

"O brother! can't I have just such clothes?" I asked. "They would be socomfortable, and I should have no fears of hurting them, as I shouldthese I have on. "

"You got yours for economy, did you not, boy?" said brother to David. 

"Not altogether, Sir. They are the only ones proper for fishing. Ofcourse, if you are going to work, you will get some of the same kind;for that finery of yours would be very much out of place. "

Finery! Could you have heard David's tone of contempt, and seen hisglance at brother's last Paris suit, you would have laughed as I did. 

I think Clarendon is getting more patient already; for a few weeks sincenothing could have saved a boy from a flogging that had dared to givehim such a glance; but his good-sense is getting uppermost. "Well, Master David, " he said, good-humoredly, "since you don't like ourclothes, you must come to-morrow to our lodgings, and show Pidgie andmyself where to get such beautiful ones as yours. "

This morning, before we had half done breakfast, I heard a bright, pleasant voice asking of our host, in a free and easy way, --"CaptainPeck, is there considerable of a pretending chap here who's going outfishing in our craft to-day? When the salt water has washed some of hisairs out of him he'll be good for something; and his brother ain't sobad now. "

You should have seen Clarendon taking as much of a glance at himself inthe little wooden-framed looking-glass, opposite the breakfast-table, asthe size of it would allow, when he heard this qualified compliment. 

"A pretty way, that, of speaking of Clarendon Beverley!" he exclaimed, almost fiercely. "These Yankees have no respect for any thing on earth, but their own boorish selves. "

"But he is only a little boy, about thirteen or fourteen, brother, " Isaid, coaxingly; "and that's his way of praising. " For I did not want tolose our new acquaintance. "He can show us where to get our clothes, just as well as if he had better manners. "

The scene at the little shop where we went for our new clothes wascomical, even to me, though I am used to brother's ways; so I could notwonder that some sailors at the door laughed out. 

"I would like some coarse jackets and trousers for this lad and myself, "he said. "Of course, we do not need any different under-clothes. "

"That shirt of yours, " said the shopman, pointing to the ribbon bindingof a fine silk shirt, which had slipped below brother's beautiful linenwristband, "would be terribly uncomfortable when it was wringing wet, and soon spoiled by sailor's washing. Nobody of any sense would think ofgoing to sea in such things as those. "

Poor Clarendon! the thought of those red-flannel shirts was near killinghim; for they were just like those our negroes wear, and so were theduck trousers. When, at last, he was persuaded to have them sent home, and put them on for trial, they did seem most ludicrously unsuitable. Inever saw him, however, look so handsome in my life; for his tarpaulinis mighty becoming to his pale, dark face, and those jet moustaches ofhis, when he has not time to tend them and keep every hair in place, will be quite fierce. He looked as solemn when he got his sea-rig on, asif he was about preaching a sermon. 

O, that reminds me that I have not told you of our visit to old FatherTaylor's church in Boston! His text was, --"He that cometh unto me shallnever thirst. " And every word of the sermon was just suited to the plaintars whom he was addressing. He baptized some children more touchinglythan any one I ever saw. Their mother was the widow of a sailor, who hadbeen lost on a late cruise, and sat beside the altar alone with twolittle boys, the youngest an infant in her arms. As the old father tookit from her and kissed it, a tear of sympathy with the bereaved parentactually fell from his kind eye, on the little, round cheek; and I shallnever forget the manner in which, after the rite was performed, hereplaced it in her arms, saying, --"Go back to your mother's bosom, andmay you never be a thorn there. "

Captain Peck, our host, --and a worthy man he is, who was himself asailor till he was washed overboard and lost his health, --has just comein to say that it is time for "our chest, " as he calls brother'sportmanteau, to be on board; so I must say good by. My next willprobably be sent from some port, into which we may run for a few hours. 

Yours, ever, PIDGIE. 

LETTER III. 

OUR MESSMATES. 

FROM PIDGIE TO HIS COUSIN BENNIE. 

Bay of Fundy, July 9th, 1846. 

O Bennie, how I wish you were here! You used to enjoy so much skullingaround that little pond of Mr. Mason's in his flat boat, what would youdo to be bounding over the water as we are now? I am sittingTurk-fashion on the deck-floor, leaning against the mast, and, as yousee, writing with a pencil, being afraid to use my inkstand, lest somestray wave should give it a capsize. There comes one now, that haswashed our floor for us, and it needed it badly enough; nor do I mindthe wetting, for I am bare-footed and my duck trousers always expect it. We have been five days now upon the water, and since we have thrownoverboard the good things that Clarendon laid in for the voyage, andtaken to sailor's fare, we have no more of that horrid sea-sickness. Hard biscuit and water are just as good as any thing else, if you onlyget used to it, and the fish which we caught this morning are delicious. We came upon a fine shoal of them, and for several hours had nothing todo but pull them in, one after another, as fast as we could put ourhooks down. I got hold of a very big fellow, myself, but he was nearerdrawing me out of the schooner than I him into it, till David Cobb cameto the rescue, and gave such a tug at the line, that he was soonfloundering about on the deck. I never knew what an apt comparison "likea fish out of water" is, till I saw him flapping round. 

If you only knew David I am sure you would like him. He is as differentas can be from our Virginia boys, and yet we are excellent friends. Ithought at first that he did not know any thing, when I found out thathe had never even heard the names of some of our most distinguishedfamilies, and I suspect he despised me in his heart because I was soignorant about the old Pilgrim Fathers. 

We have many an argument about New England and the Old Dominion, butkeep our tempers pretty well, and each of us finds a great deal to boastof. There is one thing I can say which really troubles him, for he can'tdeny that it is a great honor to the State, and that is, that GeneralWashington was born and brought up and died in Virginia. O, how heglories even that Washington was an American, and what would he not giveif he could claim him for his dear Massachusetts! I used to think thatthe Yankees were all cold-hearted and never got excited about any thing;but David looks as if his soul was all on fire when he speaks of theFather of his Country, and he drinks in every word I can tell him ofMount Vernon. He has made me tell him over as much as three times allthe stories grandfather told us of the time when he belonged toWashington's military family, and what he said to grandmother when theywere both children. 

There goes Clarendon, staggering up and down the deck from sea-sickness. He will not take enough of the sailor's fare to do him any good, and thewry faces which he makes over a few mouthfuls are pitiful. Before hecould get the sails shifted, I am sure the wind would change, and thoughthe crew try to be polite, they can't help laughing to see what anawkward hand he is at doing any thing. There goes the "Heave ho!" whichsounds so delightfully to me. 

There is one man who has just come up from below that interests me somuch that I can't help watching him all the time he's in sight. Thefirst time I saw him was the day we came on board. The schooner haddropped down a mile or two, and Captain Peck, our worthy host atMarblehead, came out in a little boat to bring some of Clarendon'sclothes, which had been left by accident. He is a clever fellow, forthough Clarendon was not half civil to him, he was always polite in hisway, and his frank, well-meaning civility so won upon brother, that whenthey parted he apologized for his rudeness, and told the Captain that hehad shown himself the most of a gentleman of the two. 

Beside brother's extra trappings, Captain Peck brought a package ofbooks, which Captain Cobb looked at with surprise, and asked, with anoath, who they were for. O Bennie! I should enjoy myself a great dealmore if two or three of the sailors did not swear so dreadfully; but Ihope when they have read those books they will stop using such wickedwords; for what should they be but Bibles, sent on board by the Seamen'sFriend Society. 

"Let us throw them overboard, " said "Brown Tom, " a coarse, red-featuredman, who is more fond of grog than reading. 

"Pshaw! Tom, don't talk of treating a lady's present in that way, "exclaimed Captain Peck, who, after his fashion, has a great respect bothfor religion and womankind, and his own wife in particular. 

"O, if that's the case, " remarked a melancholy looking man, who had notbefore spoken, "let us stow them away somewhere; for women always meanwell, and perhaps it would be better for us if we followed theiradvice. "

I thought he sighed as he said this, and I wondered what made him sounhappy. 

"Well done for Moody Dick! he's sailing under new colors. Who would havethought of his hoisting a petticoat for a flag?" said Blunt Harry, anold, fat seaman, who is esteemed the wit of the crew. 

"Not I, " replied Brown Tom; "but if the giver of these books has apretty face of her own, they are worth keeping; if not, I don't care forany of her lumber. "

"Well, that she has, " said Captain Peck, warmly; "you'll have to goround the world again before you find a sweeter face than Miss LouisaColman's. She begged me to bring them on board, and ask each sailor toaccept a copy for his own use. "

"I'll take one for myself, and thank ye, too, for mine was left bymistake at the tavern, there, " observed Old Jack, a quiet man, who hadjust come on deck. So saying, he took up the largest of the Bibles withan air of reverence, quite in contrast with his usual bold, carelessmanner, adding, as he saw the name of the donors on thefly-leaf, --"Bless the Seamen's Friend Society and Miss Colman, too, ifshe's like the rest of the dear ladies who take such an interest in uspoor wanderers of the deep. "

As the name of Miss Colman was mentioned, the face of Moody Dick met myeye, and never did I see such powerful emotion as his toil-worn featuresbetrayed. His eyes, which are of that pale blue peculiar to mariners, were filled with tears, and, unable to control his feelings, he turnedsuddenly round towards the water; but his distress was evident from theagonized writhing of every limb and muscle. 

The sailors, rough and coarse as they are, had too much real feeling toremark upon this surprising change, and in a few moments it seemedforgotten in the excitement of finally setting sail. When I next sawhim, Dick's features were hard and stony as ever; but last night, whenalmost every one was asleep, I saw him bring out the Bible of which hehad quietly taken possession, and I noticed that he had sewed a coarsecovering over it, and held it as if it were made of gold. 

When you and I, Bennie, used to kneel down so regularly, and say ourprayers every night, I did not think that the same act would everrequire a stronger effort of moral courage than any thing I have everdone. The first night we were out, after reading a chapter, as we alwaysdo at home, before getting into my little berth, I knelt down, withouteven thinking that there was any body on board who would not do thesame thing. I was so taken up with the duty I was performing, that I didnot notice if others were looking at me; for if ever I felt the need ofthe protection of God, it is now. The land is so full of things that menhave made, and they are so busy all around you, that it does not seemhalf so much as if it were God's own world as the ocean, where everyobject, except the little vessel you are in, is of his creation. As Ilooked up and saw all the universe he had made, and round on the broadwaters, and thought how soon, with one wave, they could sweep us out ofexistence, I felt the need of prayer more than ever before, and I cannotnow imagine how those men could sleep, without first asking God to takecare of them. I am afraid, though, that some of the sailors don't evenbelieve that there is such a being, and they say his awful name withoutany fear, and ask him to curse each other every few moments, as if theyhad never heard what a dreadful thing it is to be under the displeasureof the Almighty. 

When I got up from my knees, I heard a loud laugh from "Blunt Harry, "who called out to Clarendon, --"Why don't you rock that baby to sleep, now he has said his prayers, and then say your own and turn in?"

Clarendon would have made some angry reply, but he has found out thatthere is no use in getting in a passion, for the men consider him on aperfect level with themselves, and will say what they choose to him. 

"Let the boy alone, " interposed Moody Dick. "I only wish I could say myprayers this night with the same childlike confidence. "

"No, don't mind them, my fine fellow, " said Old Jack, the same man whohad spoken so warmly of the Seamen's Friend Society, and he gave me arough tap on the shoulder, which even my coarse shirt did not preventfrom stinging. "They all envy you, for I used to talk just as they do, and when at the worst I would have changed places with any body who hada fair chance of landing in heaven. "

While this conversation was going on, Clarendon bit his lips withdispleasure, and the next day he told me that I might as well say myprayers after I got into my berth. I was surprised that my proudbrother, who scorns the idea of being influenced by the opinion of anyone, should want to have me ashamed of worshipping God before those whomhe pretends to despise. Though I love him dearly, I did not follow hisadvice, and when the second night I did the same thing, no one laughedat me. 

The next day, David Cobb shook hands heartily with me, and said I oughtto have been a Yankee boy; for though he had not been brought up to sayhis prayers himself, if he had, there was not that man living who shouldlaugh him out of it. I shall try and persuade David to do right himself, as well as to approve it in others, for I remember mother'ssaying, --"Even a boy has his share of influence, and it is a talent forwhich he must account. "

I will tell you more about Old Jack and Moody Dick when I next feellike writing. I do not know when I shall have a chance to send a letter, but I shall try and have one ready all the while. Give my love to allthe children, and don't forget to remember me to the servants, especially old Aunt Molly. 

Your absent but loving cousin, PIDGIE. 

LETTER IV. 

TALK ABOUT GREAT MEN. 

FROM PIDGIE TO BENNIE. 

Banks of Newfoundland, July 15th, 1846. 

I begin to feel, dear Bennie, very much as if I should like to hear fromyou, and sometimes I am a little homesick, when I think how pleasantlyBellisle is looking, and how happy you all must be. Then what would Inot give for your pet bookcase with its treasures, the nice Rollo booksand Marco Paul's adventures, and dear old Robinson Crusoe! I am tired, too, of looking at men, and fairly long to see some one who will remindme of mother, or my sweet sister Nannie, or of the "Queen ofFlowers, "--you know who I mean. 

I suspect that brother Clarendon has something of the same feeling, foryesterday I saw him take a miniature out of what I had always thoughtbefore was a watch-case, and it was such a pretty face that I don'twonder that he sighed when he looked at it. 

But in spite of sighing and groaning, and hard fare and hard work, Clarendon is getting better very fast, and some of the sailors, who atfirst laughed at his affectation, are beginning to have a profoundrespect for him, and he in his turn seems to look much more benevolentlyupon mankind in general, and to be able to interest himself in the roughcharacters around him. I think he cut the greatest figure washing outhis red-flannel shirt yesterday, and he laughed himself at the idea ofsome of his fashionable friends catching a glimpse of him while thusemployed. 

I do not like Captain Cobb much, though he is very shrewd, and sometimestells David and me such funny stories; but he seems to have noprinciple, and has brought up David to think that if he can ever be agreat man it is no matter whether he is a good one. 

Yesterday, David and I were having one of our long talks, for we pass agreat deal of time in chatting when the weather is not favorable forfishing, and I think we shall soon know pretty well the history of eachother's lives. He was telling me about the Latin High School in Boston, and, from what he says of it, I am sure if a boy don't learn there itmust be his own fault. 

One day we were discussing our favorite characters in history, just asyou and I used to do at Bellisle, and David was very much amused when Itold him that those I most admired were Aristides, St. Paul, and GeneralWashington. His favorites are Alexander the Great, Napoleon Bonaparte, and Washington. So we agree about one of them, but differ widely as tothe other two. David absolutely laughed when I mentioned St. Paul withAristides, and seemed to think that I only named him because I had beentaught that it was right to do so. I asked if he had ever read the lifeof Paul with attention, and this question appeared to amuse him stillmore; and then he told me he had been through the Book of Acts in Sundayschool, and had learned several chapters in it by heart; but for allthat he had never thought of St. Paul as a hero. 

I asked him what made a hero, --if it was not courage in the time ofdanger. 

"Yes, " he said, "but it must be in action, not in words. "

I reminded him then of some of the Grecian orators, who made themselvesimmortal by their speeches, when their country was in danger, and askedif their words were not considered heroic. 

This question puzzled him a little, and he was not willing to own thatit was a similar case, but I defied him to find a Greek or Roman who hadhazarded his life more freely for the good of others than St. Paul. ThenI turned to the chapter containing Paul's speech before Agrippa, andasked him where he could match its eloquence. Then I read over theaccount of the sufferings of this brave Apostle, and demanded of Davidwhether any other man could give a catalogue of so many and great evilsso manfully borne. Finally, we reviewed the story of Paul's shipwreck atMelita, and David was forced to avow that my hero showed a calmness andself-possession in that hour of danger which few mariners display. 

If I only had had you to help me argue the point, I should have made himown that Paul was very far superior to Alexander the Great. 

You must not think, from what I say of David, that New England boys arenot as piously brought up as the Virginians; for I believe thegenerality of them are much better instructed; but you know we have hadpeculiar advantages, and David has been but little at home with hismother, and his father cannot teach him what he does not himself know. David will be a good man one of these days, and would be better now ifhe had not the idea that there was something manly in being wicked. I amso glad that I was not brought up to think the same, for I begin to seehow true it is, that, the older we grow, the more difficult it is for usto change our course. 

There is poor Moody Dick! I really believe he would like to be a betterman. They say that he is not more than twenty-five, but I thought thathe was over thirty, for his face is wrinkled already, and there are grayhairs around his temples. 

Yesterday, David and I were talking about our sisters. I told him allabout Nannie, and that I thought she was the prettiest girl in the wholeState of Virginia, and that was saying a great deal for her. 

He allowed that this might be true, but he had a sister of his own whowas a match for her, and began describing her quite like a poet, andthen quoted some pretty lines from a piece addressed to a sister, byMr. Everett, I believe. 

The words seemed to touch Moody Dick, who was pacing the deck near us, for he stopped and listened to them with that same distressed expressionof countenance which I had noticed before, and when they were finishedhe said, half unconsciously, --"A sister! I have a sister. There is nonelike her. "

"Have you seen her lately?" I asked. "It must be hard to be so much awayfrom her. "

"I have not seen her for many years; but what is that to you?" hereplied, almost angrily. 

My question might have been injudicious, and I immediately made anapology for it, which appeased Dick. He walked up and down the deck twoor three times, as if debating some point in his own mind, and then, returning, said, in a very sad tone, --"My life has been a useless one, but I wish to make what is left of some service to others. You two boysare still young, and may be saved from the errors into which I havefallen. Come with me to the end of the vessel, where there are nolisteners, and I will tell you the story of my life, and you will thenknow better how to appreciate a sister's love than you have ever donebefore. "

You may imagine that we accepted this invitation very readily, but justas I was seated Clarendon called to me to come quickly to him, for hewas very ill; so I had to jump up and run away. 

I found that brother had only an attack of pain in his chest, whichproceeds from his dyspepsia; but it alarmed him very much, and when itwas over, I saw that Dick was reading his Bible by the dim light of theonly lantern on board, and as I knew it would do him good, I did notdisturb him again that night. I am really anxious to know more about hissister, and why he staid away from her so long. 

I don't think that it would be pleasant to go to sea for a business, onthe whole. I used to imagine that a sailor's life must be one of thehappiest in the world; but now I see it has very great trials. I am soglad that the people on land are beginning to feel an interest in thoseon the water; for they sacrifice much to procure for them the comfortsand luxuries of foreign lands. 

I expect, Bennie, that you will be half asleep before you have donereading this letter, for I was a little homesick when I began it, andthat makes any one stupid. Brown Tom saw that I looked, as he said, "rather watery, " and, by way of cheering me, he told me, if that blackcloud in the northeast was coming over us, I would have something worsethan home-sickness before night. 

It does look rather like a squall, and I am not ashamed to own that Ishould very much prefer to be in my little snug chamber at Bellisle, outof the reach of harm. 

Tell Corty that I have taken a sketch of a schooner, that has kept nearus for the last twenty-four hours, which is just like the one I am in;and when she sees it I hope, with a little explanation, that she willknow as much about one as I do, though she has never seen any kind ofcraft but a canal-boat, and I don't think they are worthy to be namedwith any thing but Noah's ark. O, how I want to see you all! I neverwill leave home again. Remember me to every thing I love, as youraffectionate cousin, PIDGIE. 

LETTER V. 

OLD JACK. 

FROM PIDGIE TO BENNIE. 

Banks of Newfoundland, July 16th, 1846. 

Little did you think, dear Bennie, while sleeping last night quietly atBellisle, that your poor cousin Pidgie was in danger of being drowned. But so it was. The storm, of which Brown Tom had warned me, came on withtremendous force, and our poor little schooner was tossed about like afeather on the angry waves. I was so sick, however, from the roughnessof the sea, that I feared little, and realized less, of our criticalsituation. 

Clarendon says that Captain Cobb showed himself a brave man, and Davidwas more active than the oldest of the sailors. As for brother himself, he did wonders. Old Jack told me this morning, that, when we came onhoard, he thought Clarendon was such a good-for-nothing that his lifewas scarcely worth saving; but there was not a man on board who showedmore presence of mind and energetic courage. He really looks better thismorning for his exertions. 

Sick as I felt last night, there was one thing struck me forcibly, andthat was, that those who had sworn the loudest, and appeared the boldestin wickedness since we started, were most frightened, and prayed mostheartily to that Being whose existence they were before hardly willingto acknowledge. I can give you no better description of the scene thanis found in the Psalm, which is so often quoted by those who are at sea;for the ship did indeed "reel to and fro like a drunken man. "

Old Jack was perfectly composed. And well he may be; for he says that healways thinks in a storm that he may arrive shortly at a better portthan he otherwise could reach in many years. He has been telling us thismorning how he came at this happy state of mind, and several of thesailors were made serious enough, by the perils of last night, to listenpatiently to his story, and perhaps you may do the same. 

Before it was considered possible for a sea-faring man to be perfectlytemperate, Jack took more than his share of grog; and, when on shore, spent all his time in dissipation. Luckily, he had no wife to be mademiserable by his errors, though perhaps a good woman might have had anexcellent influence on him. As he had no home of his own, his time whenin port was spent at some miserable tavern by the water-side, where hecould meet the crews of vessels from all quarters of the world, and joinwith them in folly and vice. 

Two years ago, he had returned from a long voyage to the East Indies, and landed at New York. One Sunday evening, when staggering along by thedocks and looking at the different ships, trying to meet with some ofhis old messmates, he noticed what seemed to him a most curious-lookingvessel, and called out to a sailor near him, --"What in the name of senseis that odd-looking craft, without sail or steam, good for?"

"Have you never before seen the floating chapel?" asked the trim-lookingtar whom he accosted. "Come aboard, and you will be never the worse. It's a church, man! Don't stare your eyes out, but walk inside and heargood plain doctrine. "

"No, no, " replied Jack; "I can't be pressed into that service. I am inno rig either for going into such a concern; and, besides, it's ten longyears since I have been inside a church, and I should act so strangelythat they would throw me overboard. There's never a word in the gabblingone hears at such places that I can understand. "

"But this preaching is meant for sailors, " continued Jack's newacquaintance, "and there is nobody else there; so you will be rigged aswell as any of the congregation. Come along! let's board her right off. "

Jack had a great deal of curiosity, and, after a little more parley, consented to go into the floating chapel. I wish I could repeat to youthe sermon which he heard there, with the simple eloquence with which hedelivered it to us. The text was, --"The sea shall give up its dead. " Theclergyman imagined the millions who should rise, on this momentousoccasion, from the recesses of the vast ocean, and as he pictured theprobable characters of many who should then come forth to judgment, andtheir unfitness to stand before that holy tribunal, Jack felt as if hewere describing some of his own friends whom he had seen ingulfed by thewaters. When thus summoned, as they must be, before long, to appear, with the same tempers and dispositions which they had displayed in life, would they be found prepared for a heaven of purity? Then came a vividpicture of the perils of a sailor's life, and the probability that itstermination might be equally sudden. The sermon closed with an earnestexhortation to each one then present to live every moment in such astate, that, if death should surprise them, they might rise again tolife eternal; and Jack, as he listened to the concluding words, felt asif the warning were the last which would ever fall on his ears. He mighthave soon banished the seriousness occasioned by this visit to thechapel, among his jovial companions, had he not met with a loss, whichhe now considers a most providential occurrence. 

On returning to his boarding-house, Jack went to his room, and, on goingto his chest, found to his dismay that it had been opened during hisabsence, and all that remained of his wages for the last cruise stolen. He rushed down to the landlord in great distress, but obtained littlesatisfaction; and there was something in his manner which made the poorsailor think that he had known of the theft. Jack left the house indespair, not knowing which way to turn, when he met the same sailor whohad induced him to go to church, and who now offered to show him a morecomfortable lodging-place. 

"Don't talk to me of lodging!" Jack exclaimed. "I have not a penny inthe world, and must ship myself in the first vessel that goes. "

Jack's companion, with seaman-like generosity, offered him half of allhe owned in the world, and was certain, that, if he would go to theSailor's Home, he would find friends who would assist him in recoveringhis stolen treasure. Jack allowed himself to be led by his companion, and soon reached the comfortable building which had been erected by oneof those benevolent associations which are an honor to the Northerncities. 

The poor wanderer felt a greater sense of comfort than he hadexperienced for years, as he entered a pleasant little chamber in thistruly homelike abode. When he had made the acquaintance of thekind-hearted landlady, he found her willing to let him remain, evenafter he had told her of his destitute condition; and she promised thatevery effort should be made to restore to him his hard earnings. 

On going back to his snug quarters, after this conversation, there wassomething like thankfulness to the Giver of all good in Jack's heart. Byhis bedside he found a Bible, a volume which he had not seen since theone his mother gave him was lost, five years before, when he was wreckedupon the coast of Africa. He thought of the sermon which he had heardthat afternoon, and took up the book to look for the text, --"The seashall give up its dead. " The first words upon which his eye fellwere, --"For this my son was lost and is found. " The beautiful story ofthe Prodigal Son, as he had heard it in childhood, came full into hismind, and he remembered how often he had read it at his mother's knee. The tears rolled down his cheek, as, sitting down beside the little pinetable, he read again that touching picture of God's love for hiswandering children; and when he came to the confession of the penitentson, it burst forth from his own heart. 

From that hour Jack has been a changed man. Some of the benevolentpersons in the city of New York, who have the welfare of mariners somuch at heart, procured him a new situation, favorable to hisimprovement in character; and the next ship in which he sailed wascommanded by a pious captain, who was a good friend to every man onboard. When he returned from this cruise, he felt too old for anotherlong voyage, and for the future was going to try and content himselfwith being out for two or three months on expeditions like that in whichhe is at present engaged. 

Perhaps, dear Bennie, I have tired you by repeating this long story, which cannot be as interesting to you as it was to me from Jack's ownlips, in the morning after a night of such excitement, with the sailorsstanding around, listening attentively to every word of it. Even brotherClarendon was touched by the earnest exhortations to them with which thenarrative closed; and it seems as if being out of society had made himmore serious than he ever was before. He laughs at me now very often, and says I was cut out for a Methodist preacher; but on Sunday he didnot read any of the novels he brought with him, and though that does notseem a proof of much goodness, yet in him it shows improvement. If heshould get his health, and become a pious man, what a comfort he wouldbe to 'ma; for she thinks he is almost perfect now. 

We have just "come to" in a fine shoal of mackerel, so I must quitwriting and go to fishing; for David and I have a great strife whichwill catch the most on the voyage. 

Love, as usual, to every body, from yours, PIDGIE. 

LETTER VI. 

VISIT TO THE CUNARD STEAMER. 

FROM PIDGIE TO BENNIE. 

Nowhere in particular, July 22d. 

I was almost in despair, dear Bennie, of ever getting a chance to sendyou the nice long letters I had written. Though we had been nearly threeweeks from home, we had not stopped at any port, or spoken a singlevessel. Yesterday evening, Clarendon was amusing himself with aspy-glass which he brought with him, and David and I were wonderingwhether it could make something out of nothing, --for there was no landin sight, or any thing else to spy at, that we could perceive. Brother'seyes, however, were better than ours; for he saw a speck in thedistance, which he found to be a vessel of large size, and he calledthe captain to take a look at it. Captain Cobb pronounced it forthwith, from its peculiar form and the day of the month, to be one of theBritish steamers, which had got a little to the north, on its way toHalifax. He soon found that his conjectures were right; and as sheappeared to be at rest, and the wind was fair, we made towards her withall possible speed. 

It is a marvel to me how such a great, unwieldy thing can float on thewater, especially as there is so much iron about it. After all, I likeour old fishing-smack better than being within continual hearing of thatmonstrous engine; and then the smell of smoke and steam would, I amsure, take away my appetite, so that I could not even enjoy one of theirsplendid dinners. 

But you have no idea, Bennie, what elegant style every thing is in onboard these steamers. Two or three turns on the long, shining deck wouldbe quite a morning walk, and the immense dining-room appears largerstill, from the mirrors on every side. I had heard so much of thestate-rooms, that I expected more than was reasonable; and when I sawthem, the idea of passing night after night in such little closets wasnot agreeable. The pantry presented a beautiful assortment of glass andchina; but every tumbler and cup had to be fastened to the wall byhooks, or, in case of rough weather, there would be fatal smashing. Thecastors, too, looked so droll, suspended over the table like hanginglamps!

The ladies appeared quite as much at home in their delightful saloons asin the most luxurious apartments in the city, and few Virginiandrawing-rooms could make such a display of Wilton carpets, velvetlounges, and splendid mirrors. 

These steamers must be nice things for women and children, for it cannotseem at all as if they were at sea when the weather is pleasant, andthey are so used to spending their time in reading and working that itdoes not much matter where they are, if they keep on with theseoccupations. I suppose these ladies would have been miserable on such anold schooner as ours, --and some of the men, too, who looked almost aseffeminate. I think Clarendon himself would very much prefer one ofthese nice little state-rooms, where he could make his toilet socomfortably, to his straw-bed in the old Go-Ahead. I am sure a dinner onboard the steamer would be much more to his taste than biscuit andwater, even with such nice fish as we caught this morning for a relish. He pulled up a whole barrel full of them himself, and that gave him amost excellent appetite. 

At first, Clarendon declared that he could not go on board the steamerin his sailor rigging; but he had no other with him, and at length thedesire to see what he called "civilized people" once more carried himover. You should have seen some pretty ladies, who were sitting in thedining-room, stare at him. 

"That is a remarkably genteel-looking man for one in his condition, "remarked the oldest of the group. "What kind of a vessel did he comefrom?"

"I heard one of the gentlemen say, as it approached us, that it was aYankee fishing-smack, " observed her daughter. 

"He walks about as if he had been quite used to elegance, " observed athird, "and does not stare around like that plump little fellow besidehim, who is too fair to have been long on the water. "

You may be sure that "the plump little fellow who stared about" was yourcousin Pidgie, for David never looks astonished at any thing, and has sooften visited all kinds of vessels that he is quite at home in any ofthem. He was able to explain all the machinery to brother and myself, pointing out the improvements which have been recently made in steamnavigation with a clearness that I never could equal. I don't believe, though, that Clarendon heard a word of this explanation; for the remarksof the ladies in the dining-room had reached his ear, and he wasterribly discomfited at being taken for a Down East fisherman. 

David really seems to have more independence than my proud brother, forhe don't care what people take him for, so there is nothing disgracefulabout it, and verily believes that there is not a situation in the worldwhich he could not do honor to, or make honorable. 

Captain Cobb did not go on board himself, but deputed David to deliver amessage to the captain about some fish, and no man could have dischargedhis commission with more quiet indifference. You could see at a glancethat the son of the owner of the fishing-smack Go-Ahead consideredhimself quite equal to the captain of the royal steamer. 

"Have you had good luck in fishing this season, my fine fellow?" said anEnglish gentleman to Clarendon, who was standing with his back towardshim. 

I would have liked to have seen brother's face at being thus addressed;for I knew that there was a pint, at least, of the best old Virginiablood in his cheeks and forehead. The moment that he turned round, therewas something in his air which showed the man of the world his mistake. 

"I beg your pardon, Sir, " he said quickly. "Your dress made me mistakeyou for one of the sailors; but I see from your complexion that you havenot been long on the sea. "

Clarendon received the apology very graciously, and now becameinterested in conversing with the stranger. Before parting with theacquaintance made thus unceremoniously, they had exchanged names, --forcards they had none at hand, --and the English gentleman partly promisedto visit Clarendon Beverley at his own plantation of Altamac, whichbrother is to superintend on his return home. 

There was a young Italian girl on board, as nurse to one of the ladies, who reminded me of a poor little fellow that recently died at Boston. David told me about him, and said that his face was the saddest that heever saw. He earned a scanty support in a strange land by exhibitingtwo little white mice, which he carried in a small wooden cage hungaround his neck. He offered to show them without asking for money, andwhen they ran up and down his arms, and over his hands, he would lookupon them with the most mournful affection, as if they were the onlyfriends he had on earth. Every one who saw him longed to know hishistory; but he could speak but little English, and shrank from thenotice of strangers. He was taken sick and carried to the MassachusettsHospital, where his gentleness won him many friends. But they could notstop the progress of his disease, or comfort his poor, lonely heart. Thenight before he died, no one near him could sleep for his piteousmoaning and sad cries, --"I am afraid to die; I want my mother. "

O Bennie! if we had seen this poor little fellow, so unprotected andsorrowful, with no means of support but exhibiting those poor littlewhite mice, we should, I am sure, have felt that we could not be toothankful for all the comforts of our dear home. Yet, when I heard thisstory, the contrast with my own favored lot did not at first make mehappier; for I began to realize how many miserable beings there are inthe world, whose suffering we cannot relieve, and may never know. Icould not eat a mouthful that day, for thinking of the melancholy littleItalian boy. I wonder if that was his sister on board the steamer! Howcould his mother let him go so far away from her? Perhaps, though, shewas starving at home, and had heard of America as a land of plenty. 

I don't think that I shall ever want to go abroad myself; for they saythat in foreign countries one sees so many poor, miserable children; andthat would make me so unhappy that I should not enjoy any thing. I saidso to David; but he talks like a young philosopher. He seems to have away of keeping himself from feeling badly about others, though he has avery good heart, and, if he gave way to it, could make himself asunhappy about others as I sometimes do. He says he could enjoy lookingat St. Peter's quite as much if there were a few beggars around it. Iwas sure, for my part, that I could take no pleasure in looking at themost beautiful building, if I saw any one who was suffering at the sametime. 

Clarendon laughed when he heard me make this remark, and said that I wastoo chicken-hearted for a boy, and ought to have been a girl. He neednot smile at me, for he feels himself more quickly than theNew-Englanders, though, after they have weighed any case of suffering intheir own minds, they would do quite as much to relieve it. I can neverthink them cold-hearted, after visiting Boston and seeing theirhospitals and schools. While I was there, there was a tremendous fire inthe neighbourhood, by which a great many poor people lost their all. Butthe intelligence was hardly received before thousands of dollars weresubscribed for their relief. They certainly have a great deal of realfeeling and generosity, and if they would only express a little more ofit in manner and words, every body would allow them to be, what I knowthey are, the kindest people in the world, always excepting the dear oldVirginians. They speak, act, think, and feel just as they ought to do. You will perceive, from this last remark, that I am not turning traitorto the Old Dominion. We have been so successful in our fishing that Ihope ere long to see it once more; and, till then, shall remainaffectionately yours, PIDGIE BEVERLEY. 

LETTER VII. 

MOODY DICK'S SISTER LOUISA. 

FROM PIDGIE TO BENNIE. 

Schooner Go-Ahead, August 1st, 1846. 

You will think from my last letters, dear Bennie, that I have lost allinterest in Moody Dick; and to be sure I did forget his story in theexcitement of our visit to the Cunard steamer. 

The evening after that great event was so pleasant, that David and I, who in general are great sleepy-heads, had no desire to rest; perhapsfrom having seen so much that was new during the day. The sailors aretoo used to such visits to think any thing about them; and, besides, they are a mighty independent set of men, and care as little for theworld as the world for them. Clarendon sat on one end of the schoonerreading some English papers by the moonlight, which was intenselybright, while at the other end Brown Tom and some of his friends wereregaling themselves with a smoke and a long yarn. I had not seen Dicksince morning to notice him, but could not help observing him now, as hewalked about with the air of a man who is trying to free himself fromsome melancholy thought. I did not interrupt him, when he passed theplace where I was sitting with David, but two or three times he haltedas he came by us. My Yankee friend was giving me a lively description ofa clam-bake at Swampscot, in return for a picture I had drawn of life ona plantation in Virginia; but though it was most amusing, I could nothelp pitying Dick. By and by he stopped near us, and stood lookingearnestly at something which he had taken from his bosom. A sudden wavestruck the vessel, which gave it a tilt, and in preserving his footingDick dropped a small locket on the edge of the deck, which David caughtfast as it was slipping into the water. 

As he handed the trinket to its owner, I could not help seeing that itheld the miniature of a lovely child, not more than four years old. Thehair was very light, and curled so sweetly, that the eyes were like LilyCarrol's, only a little sadder; but the mouth seemed as ready to smileas hers always is. The face was not at all like Dick's, but yet itreminded me of what his might have been when a child. 

"O, how beautiful!" I exclaimed involuntarily, as David placed it inDick's hand. 

"Do you think so?" he asked, earnestly. "Look again at this merry face, and tell me if it ever ought to have been saddened by sorrow. "

"But, you know, 'by the sorrow of the countenance the heart is madebetter, '" I replied, wishing to soothe the grief which he evidentlyfelt, as he held the miniature for me to look at it again. 

"Better!" repeated Dick, sternly. "There could not be a better heartthan my sweet sister Louisa always had. That picture gives only a faintidea of her lovely face, for it represents its least pleasingexpression, and she had not then reached the height of her beauty. Yetit is very like, " he added, gazing sadly upon it. "Even now I seem tohear those rosy lips utter their first sweet lisp, --'Dear brother. '"

"No wonder that you loved her, if she was even prettier than this!" Iexclaimed; "for I could lay down my life for such a sister. "

"I did not love her, " he answered, to our great surprise. "You areastonished at the confession; but I am not sure that, affectionate asyou boys both seem, you either of you know what true love is. I wasproud of Louisa. When she was an infant I liked to hear her praises; andas she grew more and more beautiful, and began to pour out the firstwoman feelings of her guileless heart upon me, I received them withgratitude, and really believed she was, what I called her, 'my heart'streasure. '"

"Then why do you say that you did not love her?" I inquired, hesitatingly. 

"Because years have convinced me, " he replied, "that I was even then, what I have ever since been, one mass of selfishness. I never gave up asingle wish for her pleasure, or made one effort to add to herhappiness. Never say, my boys, that you love any one, till you find yourown will giving way to the desire to please them, and that you cancheerfully renounce your most cherished plans for their sake. "

As he said this, Bennie, I asked myself whether it could be true that Idid not even love my mother, and tried to think whether I had ever madethe least sacrifice of my will to her comfort. O, how many acts recurredto my mind of selfish imposition upon her yielding gentleness! I amafraid that we boys all take the kindness of our parents too much as amatter of course, and do not often enough question ourselves whether weare making any return for their love. 

But I am getting to scribble away my own thoughts quite too freely. Yetit is only a year since I could think of no other commencement to aletter than "As this is composition day, I thought that I would write toyou. "

As Dick thus spake of his own want of consideration for the feelings ofhis little sister, he became exceedingly agitated and was unable toproceed. Clarendon, who had finished reading his papers, came to theside of the boat where we were sitting, and told me that he was going toturn in, and that it was quite time for me to be asleep too. I was veryreluctant to go, but when brother was out of hearing, Dick said, --"It isas well. I find I have not self-command enough to go over the sad storyof my own folly. If you will give me a pencil and some paper, to-morrowI will write such portions of it as I think may interest or be ofservice to you. Do not criticize the expressions, for it is many yearssince I have done any thing of the kind, and the life I have led hasabout destroyed all traces of my early education. "

Of course, David and I were obliged to accept this promise in lieu ofthe evening's entertainment which we had expected, and marched off toour berths. 

The next day we came upon a fine shoal of mackerel; so every one wasbusy, and it was not till nearly a week afterwards that Dick handed ustwo closely-written sheets of paper, with a caution not to show them toany one else. David and I read them with much interest, and I copiedthem to send to you. Here they are, and you must take care that I havethem safe on my return. 

CONTINUATION OF DICK'S STORY. 

"It was not from pride that I was unable to go on with the history of myown early years; but I find that I had not the fortitude to bear the sadrecollection of my own selfishness and ingratitude. My little sister'simage rose before me with such sweetness and purity that I could notutter another word. 

"I will pass over the years of my infantine tyranny till, when at theage of fourteen, I became possessed with a strong desire to be sent to apublic school. My father was sitting in his large arm-chair, in theporch, after tea, when I made this request, which, at first, he refusedto grant. 

"'I shall never be any thing but a baby, ' I exclaimed angrily, 'broughtup with nobody but a mere child, and that a girl, too, for my playmate. Do send me where I can make a man, and be a match for other boys of myage. '

"My old father looked very sadly at this outbreak of passion, but didnot reprove my disrespectful tone. 'Where do you wish to go?' he asked, soothingly. 'Can you find any one who will love you better than yoursweet little sister and I do? She would be very unhappy if I were tosend her dear brother away. '

"'And so, ' I said, 'I must be tied to Miss Louisa's apron-string all mylife, for fear the little baby will cry for me! If my interest is alwaysto lend to her pleasure, I might as well give up all hope of ever beingany thing now. '

"At this moment, Louisa, who sat swinging on the garden gate, fanningher fair cheek with the little round hat which she had just beentrimming with roses, caught the sound of my angry voice; and never did acloud more quickly obscure the sweet star of evening than the shadowfell on her young face. She dropped her hat beside her on the grass, andthe ever-ready tear rose to her dark hazel eye; but she dashed it away, knowing that I was always angry with her instead of myself when I madeher weep. She left her seat, and, coming up the walk with a timid air, stole to my father's side and whispered, --'O, don't cross Richard, father! If he wants to go away from us, let him. He will be happierwhere there are boys of his own age. '

"'And what will you do, my sweet pet?' asked my father, fondly, as hedrew her to his knee. 'Will you stay alone with your old father, and tryand comfort him. '

"'O, yes indeed!' she answered earnestly, as she threw her arms aroundhis neck and kissed him. 'We shall get along so nicely together, and beso happy when we have pleasant letters from Dick, telling us how he isimproving in every thing. '

"Hers was love; for she cared nothing for her own loneliness incomparison with the gratification of my wishes. 

"So I left our quiet country home, with all its holy influences, for theturmoil and heartlessness of a large school, where I soon became theringleader in all sorts of mischief. Before long, accounts of my evildoing reached my father; but Louisa, incredulous of evil, as the pureever are, persuaded him that her brother had been misunderstood, and nottreated with sufficient gentleness. 'His spirit has been imprudentlyroused, ' she said, 'and that makes him perverse and forgetful of hisbetter self. But all will soon be well again. '

"By being more cunning in my wicked exploits, I contrived to hide themfrom my teacher, and consequently was allowed to remain at school forseveral years, till considered ready to enter college. During this timeI had made very short visits at home, and almost dreaded the longvacation before entering the Sophomore class at Harvard University. 

"It is possible that in some respects I might have improved inappearance during my residence at school; but evil tempers and evilhabits will leave their traces on the countenance, and my excellentparent sighed as he looked upon the hardened face of his only son. Louisa, also, found something unpleasant in the change, but said that noalteration would have pleased her which made me differ from the dearlittle brother with whom she had passed so many happy hours. I could notsay the same of her; for, though my baby sister had seemed perfect, thetall girl of fifteen, who stood at the garden gate to welcome me, waslovelier still. The responsibility of presiding over her father'shousehold and her anxiety for me had infused a shade of thoughtfulnessinto her otherwise lively countenance, which might have made it seem toofull of care for one so young, had not the sweeter Christian principlechanged it to an expression of quiet peacefulness. 

"When I told of my school follies at home, Louisa would sometimes sigh;and then I would be angry at what I named her 'daring to dictate to me. 'But I never could frighten her into approving what was wrong. I was nothappy in her society, for much of my time of late years had been spentin a manner of which she could not fail to disapprove, and her wholelife was at variance with mine. I do believe, now, in spite of herunwearied affection, that it was a relief to her when the vacation wasover, and she had no longer the annoying presence of her wicked, waywardbrother. 

"Sometimes Louisa would allude to the way in which we had beeneducated, entirely unconscious that I not only had given up allreligious observances, but even dared to make them a matter of sport. Iwas half ashamed, and quite as much provoked, when at parting she handedme a book of 'Private Devotions, ' with a mark, worked in her own hair, at a prayer for absent friends. 

"'You had better keep this book for yourself, little Methodist, ' Iexclaimed, trying to laugh off my vexation. 'Students have no need ofsuch text-books, I can tell you. '

"'But students need the protection of an Almighty Creator, ' she replied, seriously, 'and their absent friends, also, are only safe under hiskeeping. I always pray for you, my dear brother, as our mother taught meto do; and I had hoped that you had not given up the petition for yoursister which you also used to say at her knee. '

"This remark brought before me the image of our departed mother, as shelooked the last time I remembered to have seen her, seated in an easychair which she rivalled in whiteness, so mild and calm, with the littlecurly head of my baby-sister in her lap, while she dictated to her thesimple form of prayer, --'God bless my dear brother!'

"As the stage-coach rolled away from my father's door, I could notbanish the vision called up by Louisa's parting words, and I thenresolved to try and become what my mother would have wished. Vainresolution! Six weeks saw me immersed in all the dissipation that thecity afforded, and in three months I had an empty purse, enfeebledhealth, and a hardness of heart which would have taken some men years toacquire. 

"To pay my 'honorable debts, ' as I called my gambling ones, I wrote toLouisa, requesting her to ask my father to send me a fresh supply ofmoney. She sent me a moderate sum in a purse of her own knitting, whichshe playfully observed, 'would not part with its treasures unless theywere to be worthily employed. '

"The funds so easily obtained were soon scattered to the winds, and Isent a repetition of my former request to Louisa, couched in the mostaffectionate language, adding many words of endearment, without oncethinking of the meanness of thus employing her affection to pander to myown selfish gratification. 

"But I was mistaken in Louisa! While she thought that she could benefitme, there was no limit to her kindness; but her principles were too firmfor weak indulgence. She replied to my demand kindly, but decidedly. Herconscience would not allow her to impose on the generosity of ourexcellent parent, and to take from him that which was necessary for thecomfort of his old age, for the sake of indulging me in my viciouspursuits. She begged me to give him an honest statement of my affairs, and to assure him of my resolution to renounce the follies in which Ihad become thus entangled, cautioning me against endeavouring to warphis judgment by expressions of affection, while my whole conduct showedsuch utter disregard of his happiness. 

"These were the first words of severity which I had ever heard fromLouisa, and only her devotion to our father could have called themforth. I was in a perfect rage at the receipt of her letter, anddetermined to do something which should make my sister repent of herboldness. 

"That night my effects were all packed up, excepting a few valuables, ofwhich I disposed at any price, to pay off my debts to my recklesscompanions, and the next day saw me on my way to New York. 

"When I arrived at that city, I wrote a few lines to Louisa, but not aword to my father. I remember them as plainly as if they were now beforeme, for they haunted me for years. These were the cruel words with whichI took leave of the sweetest of human beings:--'Since you think, MissLouisa, that my father is too poor to support me, I will no longer taxhis kindness. I can take care of myself, and be free from yourreproaches. I am going to sea in the first vessel that sails from thisport. I care not where it is bound, so that it bears me away from thosethat once loved me, but who have now cast me off from them for ever. '

"The first ship which I could find was just starting for a long whalingvoyage; and, careless of consequences, I entered it as a common sailor, little aware of the trials I was about to endure. A fit of sea-sicknessmade me soon repent of the rash step that I had taken; but it was toolate to return; the vessel kept mercilessly on its course, carrying meaway from my only true friends. The tyranny of the coarse captainbrought painfully to my remembrance the indulgence I had always receivedfrom my kind parent, whose only weakness was the readiness with which heyielded to my wishes. 

"At first I refused to have any thing to say to my messmates, many ofwhom were morally better than myself; but I was naturally social, and, soon forgetting my refined education, began to enjoy their conversation. I became quite a hero among them, and led them into mischief in everyport at which we stopped. Many of our pranks would have brought usbefore the civil authority, had we not sailed away before theirauthorship was ascertained. 

"After an absence of three years I returned to New York, with nothing inthe world which I could call my own but my sailor's clothes and my lastmonth's wages. As soon as we were discharged I repaired to a low tavernnear the dock, with some of the most unworthy of the crew, determinedthat my family should never hear of my arrival in the country. On takingup a paper one day, I saw, to my surprise, among the advertised lettersone to myself, which was speedily procured for me by a messmate, as Iwas anxious not to be seen in the more frequented part of the city. 

"The letter was from Louisa. I have it still, but it is too sacred tomeet any eyes but my own. It contained all that Christian principle andsisterly affection could dictate to recall a wanderer home, and it wentto my heart. Inclosed was a large sum of money, the fruit of her ownlabor during my absence; and she informed me that another lettercontaining a similar inclosure was in the post-office at Boston. Aftermuch inquiry, my father had discovered the name of the ship in which Ihad sailed, and the probable length of its cruise, and therefore Louisahad expected my return to one of these ports during the summer, if I wasstill alive. Our dear parent, she informed me, was ready to receive mewith open arms; and, for herself, her affection had undergone no change. 

"You will of course conclude that I did not delay one moment, after thereceipt of this letter, returning to a home where such an angelic beingwaited to receive me. It seems impossible to me, now, that I could havedone otherwise. Yet so it was. Pride, my besetting sin, made me inflictstill deeper wounds on that gentle heart. 

"I had determined, as soon as I could procure suitable clothing, to godirectly to Charlottesville, for that was the name of our village; andfor this purpose I walked for the first time toward the business quarterof the city. As I was going up Broadway, in my ragged sailor's dress, keeping close to the inside of the walk to escape observation, I saw apale, slender girl coming towards me, accompanied by two gentlemen, oneof whom was a fine-looking officer, in a naval uniform. The lady wasengaged in animated discourse, and, by the pleasant countenance of thegentlemen, very agreeable, for one laughed aloud, apparently at someremark which had dropped from her lips. 

"In an instant I recognized my sister, and was ready to fall on my kneesbefore her; but then I remembered my own shabby appearance, and deferredour meeting till I could execute my present design, and make myself morerespectable. 

"As I passed I saw her face grow sad, for she caught a glimpse of mydress, and though the glance was too hasty for her to recognize me, yetI doubt not that it brought her poor brother to her mind, for I heardher sigh deeply. 

"As I went on my way, my mind was full of bitterness. Whenever I haddone wrong myself, I always began to imagine that others had injured me;and now I tried to persuade myself that Louisa was indifferent to mywelfare, and had only sent me money for fear that I should disgrace herby appearing again at home. 'Proud girl!' I exclaimed, 'you need notfear that such a miserable wretch will claim your relationship, ordisturb your enjoyment of congenial society. '

"When Satan can find entrance into the soul for such wicked thoughts, they soon drive out all better ones; and, before I had reached thetailor's shop to which I was going, I had determined never to returnhome. 

"Without taking any notice of the letter I had received from Louisa, Isecured a berth immediately in a vessel bound for the Pacific, and forthree years again deserted my native land. 

"About eighteen months after this ship sailed, we fell in with aman-of-war, and I went on board. The moment that I saw the captain Irecognized in him the officer whom I had seen with my sister in NewYork. For once the love of home was stronger than my pride, and I askedanxiously if he could tell me any thing of Miss Louisa Colman. 

"The instant that I made this inquiry, the captain gave me a keen, scrutinizing glance, and then replied quickly, --'You are the brotherRichard, I presume, of whose fate Miss Colman has been so longuncertain?'

"I was taken too much by surprise to deny this fact, and Captain Hallcontinued, --'I had the pleasure of becoming intimate in Dr. Colman'sfamily, and my wife is devotedly attached to your sweet sister. Throughher I heard of your absence from home, and the grief it had given to allwho loved you. My belonging to the navy seemed to give me an interestin Miss Louisa's eyes, and shortly before I sailed, she implored me tomake inquiry of every ship which came in my way, to discover, ifpossible, whether you were still among the living. '

"'I saw her in New York, ' I remarked very coldly, as the scene inBroadway recurred to my mind; 'and though it was only for a moment, Iperceived that she was in excellent spirits. '

"'Miss Louisa Colman can never be long unhappy, ' he replied, sternly, 'while she leans on Heaven and employs her whole time in doing good toothers. Misery is their lot alone, who, to gratify their own selfishwhims, will trample on the happiness even of their dearest friends. '

"I felt the reproof contained in these words, but was too proud to showany emotion, even when Captain Hall gave me a description of the sceneat home, after my first departure became known. In her grief, Louisanever forgot what was due to her father, and the cheerfulness which shemanaged to maintain, notwithstanding her affliction, was all thatsupported his broken spirit. Captain Hall then informed me that the oldman's health was failing, and his last letters from America had spokenof his increased weakness. 

"This information was a dreadful blow, but it did not make me a betterman. I tried to drown sorrow in intoxication, and almost obliterated theremembrance of home, excepting when, in the silence of night, it wouldcome over me with irresistible power. 

"When, after the lapse of three years, I once more approached my nativeland, I was much more unworthy of being recognized by my friends than inreturning from my previous voyage. Still I proceeded directly toCharlottesville, and stopped at the old mansion, which I had not seenfor six long years. Alas! it was tenanted by strangers. A new tombstonewas in the village grave-yard, and on one side of it the name of myfather, and the other bore my own. I asked the sexton, who was justopening the church for an evening lecture, when Richard Colman died. Hereplied very readily, --'O, about a year since. The old gentleman heardof the loss of the vessel in which he sailed, and dropped away himselfvery suddenly. '

"I dared not inquire after Louisa, for I felt that she must look upon meas the destroyer of our father. I hastened to Boston, and had determinedon leaving the country for ever, when, by accident, I had tidings of mysweet sister. 

"After the melancholy information I obtained at Charlottesville, I hadbecome a temperance man, and took up my abode at the Sailor's Home. While there, a poor man, who had been ill for months, and finally wasobliged to have his leg amputated, spoke often of the goodness of ayoung lady who had been often to see him, and whom he considered almostan angel. My curiosity was excited, and I inquired of the excellentlandlady the name of his friend, and was answered by a warm tribute ofpraise to my own sister. I found that she was living in the family of anaunt, and was devoted to benevolent objects of all kinds, but chieflyinterested in schemes for improving the temporal and spiritual conditionof seamen. O, my poor Louisa! I knew, at that moment, that love for hermiserable brother's memory had dictated these exertions. 

"Yet even then I did not seek to see her. 'I will leave her in peace, ' Isaid to myself, 'for she thinks I am dead, and it would be better forher if I really were. ' Still, now that she was alone, I could not bearto go so far from her again, and therefore made up my mind to enter thefishing-service, that I might not long be absent from the city. 

"You may remember the day that Captain Peck brought the Bibles on board, which had been left for distribution by a lady of Boston. That lady wasmy sister, and I trust that the bread which she thus cast upon thewaters may indeed be returned to her before many days. I have read thatBible daily, first, because it was her gift, and then because I foundthat it could give me more peace than I had ever known before in mywhole life. I shall go to my sister as soon as we return, and I feelthat she will not cast me away. I have so impaired my constitution, thatonly a few years may remain to me; but whatever time I am spared shallbe spent in repaying as far as possible her unwearied affection. 

"I have written this story with great reluctance, but my heart wasalmost breaking from so long repressing its emotions. You are stillboys. Try, then, while it is in your power, to make those who love youhappy, instead of laying up years of remorse and misery by selfishindulgence of your own wishes, at the expense of their comfort andpeace. Read now the book which I have so lately learned to prize, andyou will not have to look back upon the grave of a father whom you neverhonored, and the counsels of a mother so long despised. "

Poor Dick! Although he was so unkind, do you not feel very sorry forhim, Bennie? I long so to hear of his meeting with his sister, that I amreally impatient to return. David did not say much after reading thisstory, but I know he thinks a great deal about it. Yesterday he said tome, --"Did you ever know, Pidgie, that girls were so tender-hearted? Ithink I must often have hurt my little sister's feelings. She is a goodlittle thing, and, though not quite so pretty as that picture of LouisaColman, yet a very fair-looking girl in her way. "

I suppose this long letter will not go till I have a chance of writinganother, all about myself; but if it does, you ca imagine that I amspending my time pretty much as I have described before; and believe mestill your affectionate cousin, PIDGIE. 

LETTER VIII. 

DAVID'S GLIMPSE OF NOBILITY. 

FROM PIDGIE TO BENNIE. 

Schooner Go-Ahead, August 16th, 1846. 

You will see by the date, dear Bennie, that more than two weeks havepassed since I last wrote to you. In the mean time your poor cousinPidgie has been lying on his straw-bed, sick with a fever. It has beenrather gloomy, to be sure; but now that I am better I can think ofnothing but the kindness of the sailors. It must be the salt water whichkeeps their hearts so good and warm, for when any one is in real troublethey are as tender as little children. There were two or three of them, whom I had not even thought worth mentioning, that spent every moment, when they were not busy, in trying to amuse me. One had been to China, and you don't know how many curious things he had seen there. He tellsme that there is a Chinese museum in Boston, and when I go back there Ishall visit it, and I will try and remember every thing worthy of noticeto tell you on my return. How many pleasant evenings we shall spendtogether, in the old school-room at Bellisle, with all the girls sittingby the long window, or near us out on the porch!

I love the sea, and yet I long to take a stroll down the lawn beforeyour door on the sweet green grass. It is a blessed thing thattravelling of any kind has so much to interest, or else how would anyone ever be able to make up his mind to leave home?

Since I have heard poor Dick's story I don't much wish to go to a publicschool; but Clarendon says that's a silly prejudice, for it was the samedisposition which made him unhappy at home, that prevented the schoolfrom being of service to him. Yet I am afraid that I have not principleenough to go among so many boys and do what is right. It is harder to belaughed at by those of our own age than by older people. I have learnedthis lately, for I find that I don't feel half as much ashamed whenbrother makes fun of what he calls my Methodistical habits, as I do ofDavid's ridicule. He has a way of putting aside all the reasons I givehim for doing right, as if they were so utterly unworthy of a boy'sconsideration, that I hardly dare to try and argue with him. 

A few nights since, one of the old sailors took out a pack of greasycards, and, calling to one of his companions, said that he would teachDavid and I to play a two-handed game, which we should find veryamusing. David was all eagerness to learn; but I told him that I hadrather not touch them. 

"Nonsense, man!" said David; "I thought that you had too much sense tobe afraid of little pieces of pasteboard, with red and black spots onthem. They are not going to poison you. "

"But I have promised my mother that I would never play cards, " Ireplied; "and, besides, it would give me no pleasure, for I have heardof so much evil from the use of them that I cannot see them withoutpain. "

The old sailor, who had only wished to please me, was very angry at whatI said, and began swearing dreadfully. David tried to pacify him, andproposed that they should take a game together, and he'd be bound that Iwould want to play before they had done with it. 

"Would you wish, " I asked, "that I should be tempted to break a promiseto a widowed mother, who never in my life denied me any thing that wasreasonable?"

"No!" said David, after a moment's thought; "give me your hand! You areperfectly right, and I honor you for it. "

Before he had time to say any more, Brown Tom came in to look for a gun, which had been brought on board; for the water was covered with ducks, and he was anxious to have a shot at them. I should like to try my handin the same way; for when fish and birds are used for food, myconscience don't hurt me about killing them. That's the reason that Ilike mackerel-fishing, though I have no fondness for mackerelsthemselves, for they are cannibals. We use a piece of one for bait forthe rest, and don't have lines more than three or four yards long. Thisis a very different thing from catching cod, where they pull them upthrough many fathoms of water. Clary says that next year he means to goout to the Banks for cod, if he can get some of his friends to make up aparty for the purpose. You never saw any one so changed as he is. 

Last week there came up a storm, when we were near the land, and theyhauled into port. Clarendon walked off on shore in his fishing-clothes, without appearing in the least ashamed of them, and went to make a callon a gentleman in the place, whom he had seen in Virginia a year or twosince. I wish I had been well enough to have gone with him, for he saw agreat many things which were new to him, and he says that BritishAmerica is as different from the United States as if it were not a partof the same continent. None of the crew minded walking about on shore inthe rain, and while they were gone I was alone, excepting Dick, and hewas on deck writing a letter to his sister, to send across the countryand prepare her for his return; for you know she thinks that he is dead. 

When David came back, though, I had fun enough; for he gave me the mostamusing description of every thing he had seen. 

"Hurrah for New England!" he exclaimed, as soon as he got on board. "John Bull don't beat Brother Jonathan yet. Let them talk of their lordsand their ladies; there is not a gentleman in Boston that is not quiteas noble-looking as the one that I saw, and a great deal more knowing, Ican tell you. We saw a splendid carriage and four, with a troop ofsoldiers in red tramping after it, and a passably pretty flag flyingover them. I asked a little boy whom we met what they were about, and hereplied, that they were escorting a great British general, who had justcome over to the Provinces. I ran forward to get a peep at the wonder, and had a good stare at the old fellow; and such another fright younever saw. I wished I had a temperance tract to give him, for his facewas redder than the sun last night, when it went down in a cloud, andhis eyes looked like stoppers to a whiskey-bottle, which had got soakedthrough. He'd better not have much to do with fire-arms, for he'd blowup to a certainty. They say he lies in bed till twelve o'clock everyday, and then does nothing but just drink and eat, and drink and smoke, till midnight. I am glad that our government has no such loafers tomaintain. "

"But did not the place itself look flourishing?" I asked, amused at hiswarmth. 

"No, indeed!" he replied; "every body had a constrained air, as if theywere in bondage, and it made my blood boil to see two fine-appearingmen waiting so obsequiously on a good-for-nothing young scamp, justbecause he had a title to his name. I hope that I shall never live tosee the day when there is any such nonsense tagging to my label as theystring on to theirs. How much better George Washington sounds than theHonorable Alexis Fiddle Faddle, &c. "

"That's a nobleman I never heard of, " said old Jack, laughing at David'svexation; "but Nelson is a very fine-sounding name, for all it's anEnglish one. "

"And the Duke of Wellington, too, " said I, "is not an ugly title, and Iwould give a great deal to see the man who bears it. "

"Ah! ah!" said David, shaking his head; "you Virginians will never getover some of those Tory notions you got from the old Cavaliers, that hadto clear out of England when Cromwell made it too hot for them. "

"And you Yankees, " I replied, with equal warmth, "will always have theblind obstinacy of the Barebones Parliament, and think that there is nomorality or religion in the world but your own, and that calling a manan ugly name will make him a better Christian. "

We might have gone on disputing thus till we had made each other veryangry, had not Old Jack stopped us by saying, --"Come, come, boys, bedone quarrelling! Don't you both belong to the same country? When youhave sailed round the world as I have, Old Virginny and Boston Bay willseem all the same thing, and you will love every inch of ground overwhich the stripes and the stars wave. I love all Yankees, from Maine toTexas; and if we would only keep tight together, we could whip all theworld. "

"That's sound sense, " said Clarendon, who had just come in. "We Yankeesshould stick to our motto, --'United we stand, divided we fall. ' In ourdays, we think too much of our being 'pluribus, ' and too little that weare 'in unum. '"

Don't Clarendon deserve three cheers for that speech? To think of hiscalling himself a Yankee! Why! I have seen the time when he would haveknocked any one down who had dared to say the same thing of him. Andwhen Jack, sung out, in a tremendous voice, --

 "Hail Columbia, happy land!"

Clary joined in with all his might, and so did the rest of the sailors, and such a singing of Yankee songs as they kept up for a full hour, younever heard. If brother practises that kind of music, he'll find hardwork in fetching his guitar to match it. 

Captain Cobb has just told us, that, when we have caught a few barrelsmore of mackerel, the schooner can carry no more, and then right aboutfor Boston Harbour. O, how my heart jumps with delight! Home, home, sweet home! Your happy cousin, PIDGIE. 

LETTER IX. 

BOSTON LIONS. 

FROM PIDGIE TO BENNIE. 

Tremont House, Boston, August 27th, 1846. 

You will see, dear Bennie, that I am once more on dry land, and a verynice place it is that I have anchored in. Shortly after I last wrote toyou, the Go-Ahead had her full complement of mackerel, and, with heartyrejoicing, we set sail for home. Fortunately, the wind was fair, and ina few days we came in sight of Marblehead, which had lost none of itspeculiarities during our absence. 

David and I were right sorry that the time of our parting was so near;but Clarendon gave him a warm invitation to visit us in Virginia. Captain Cobb did not think it at all unlikely that we might have a visitfrom his son one of these days, for New England boys think nothing ofbeing a few hundred miles from home. 

I did not, however, bid David good by at Marblehead, for he promised tocome up to Boston and show me the lions. On Saturday, he appeared at theTremont, and I scarcely knew him, for he looked so nice in a suit of newclothes. Clarendon was glad to give me into his hands, for he isenjoying himself in his own way with some very pleasant young gentlemen, to whom he brought letters of introduction. 

There is no use in saying that New-Englanders are not hospitable, forbrother has been invited out every day, and he says that the dinners arequite equal to any that he has seen at home, and that the conversationis the most intelligent to which he ever listened. David actually begandancing for joy at this remark; for he thinks Boston men of the presentday are superior to all the rest of the human race. 

You will wonder why we stay here; but the truth is, that we have nomoney to get home, as brother has not yet received the drafts fromVirginia that he expected to meet him on his return from the Banks. While waiting for them to come on, I am determined to see all that Ican, and we cruise off every morning and evening on a voyage ofdiscovery. 

Yesterday I visited the Chinese Museum, and there will be no use now inmy going to China itself, for I can tell how every thing looks almost aswell as if I had been there. Then I saw the Institution for the Blind atSouth Boston, and another for the Insane at Charlestown. David and Ijust jump into the omnibus, and away we go to any of the surroundingtowns. I think I like Cambridge best of all of them, and, if 'ma seesfit, I should prefer to go to Harvard University, for they have abeautiful library full of nice books, and it is so near to Mount Auburn, and I could spend a day there every week with pleasure. I don't see whywe can't have such beautiful burial-places in Virginia, for some of ourland is quite as fine. I know of a spot now which could be made such asweet one with a little pains. Why can't we have just such a lovelycemetery? I will tell you more about it, and some of the prettymonuments, when I return. 

You should have seen David and I dining together at the Tremont to-day, quite like two young gentlemen; for brother was invited out, and hebegged David to take his place. I must own that my friend's house atMarblehead was rather a shabby old affair, and he has been brought up inthe plainest way; yet he does not show the least awkwardness at ourelegant table, but has the air of one quite accustomed to luxury. Hehandles a silver fork with the greatest freedom, takes the name of everydish readily from the bill of fare, and orders the waiters round as ifthey were his own particular servants, only in such a conciliatory way, that they seem delighted to do any thing for him. 

On Sunday morning we went to a Swedenborgian church, which is one of themost beautiful buildings in the city. It has a large window of stainedglass at one end, of such a color that it makes every thing look as ifthe light of the setting sun was falling upon it. There was a curioussort of tower opposite this window, with a kind of niche in it for alarge Bible, which the minister took out with the greatest reverence, and he read from it all the prayers and psalms which were used. I likedthe service very well, but, of course, I prefer our own. 

In the afternoon, David took me to Trinity Church, and I was perfectlydelighted to hear our dear liturgy again, after being so long deprivedof it. Some of the people did not kneel down, but I could not help doingit, for my heart was so full. 

Just as we were coming out of church, I observed one of the sweetestyoung ladies that I ever saw, who looked as if she had been crying, and yet there was a happy smile on her face. I was wondering why shelooked so familiar to me, when she said, in a perfectly musical voice, to some one near her, --"Is it not delightful to worship God with his ownchosen people once more?"

I turned to see who she thus addressed, and, notwithstanding the changein his dress, at once recognized Richard Colman. I cannot describe toyou the joy I felt at finding him thus restored to his sister. Before Ithought that I was among strangers, I flew to his side, andexclaimed, --"O, I am so glad that you have got your sister! I hope youwill never leave her again. "

"He never will, " Miss Louisa replied; for poor Dick was too muchovercome by the suddenness of my greeting to answer me. "You, " she said, looking at David and myself, "are, I doubt not, the little friends thatmy brother has been telling me about. Come tomorrow and see us inChestnut Street, for I am anxious to make your acquaintance. "

Dick then joined in this invitation, and David accepted it for both ofus. 

We called upon Miss Colman the next day, and received a warm welcome;but, of course, she did not allude to her brother's long absence, onlynow and then as she looked at him her beautiful dark eyes would fillwith tears. O, Bennie, if you could only see her! for she is the mostlovely being that I ever met; but I hope that you may some day, for Dickhalf promised Clarendon to pay us a visit, and I am going to get mammato write and beg his sister to come on with him. 

I am so impatient now for Clarendon's letters to come! After we are oncestarted, we shall not stop till we reach Virginia. Yet I shall be sorryto leave this same Yankee land, with its morality, its intelligence, andits kindness. If for nothing else, I shall bless this fishing excursionfor having opened my eyes to the virtues of the excellent people whom Ireally used to despise. Though a Virginian still in heart, I can joinDavid heartily in crying, --"Hurrah for New England now and for ever!"Till we meet, which will, I trust, be soon, your affectionate cousin, PIDGIE BEVERLEY. 

THE END.