Hardly a month passed but we received additional pensioners into the hospital.  Among others, a man was sent to the hospital who went by the name of Sam Spicer.  I say went by the name, as it was not the custom for the seamen to give their real names when they were entered or pressed into the service, and of course they were discharged into the hospital by the same name which they bore on the ship’s books.  Spicer was upward of six feet in height, very large boned, and must, when he was in his prime, have been a man of prodigious strength.  When he was admitted to the hospital he was nearly sixty years of age; his hair was black and gray mixed, his complexion very dark, and his countenance fierce and unprepossessing.  He went by the name of Black Sam, on account of his appearance.  He had lost his right hand in a frigate action, and to the stump he had fixed a sort of socket, into which he screwed his knife and the various articles which he wished to make use of—­sometimes a file, sometimes a saw—­having had every article made to fit into the socket, for he had been an armorer on board ship, and was very handy at such work.  He was, generally speaking, very morose and savage to everybody, seldom entered into conversation, but sat apart, as if thinking, with a frown upon his countenance, and his eyes, surmounted with bushy eyebrows, fixed upon the ground.  The pensioners who belonged to the same ward said that he talked in his sleep, and from what they could collect at those times he must have been a pirate; but no one dared to speak to him on the subject, for more than once he had been punished for striking those who had offended him; indeed, he nearly killed one old man who was jesting with him when he was at work, having made a stab at him with his knife screwed in his socket, but his foot slipped and the blow missed.  Spicer was brought up before the council for this offense, and would have been discharged had he not declared that he had done it only by way of a joke to frighten the man; and, as no one else was present, it could not be proved to the contrary.  For some reason or another, which I could not comprehend, Spicer appeared to have taken a liking to me; he would call me to him, and tell me stories about the West Indies and the Spanish Main, which I listened to very eagerly, for they were to me very interesting.  But he seldom, if ever, spoke to me inside of the hospital; it was always when I was at the steps minding my vocation, where he would come down and lean over the rail at the top of the wharf.  He made and gave me a boat-hook, which I found very convenient.  He had a great deal of information, and as the ships came up the river he would point out the flags of the different nations, tell me where they traded from, and what their cargoes probably consisted of.  If they had no ensign he would tell by their build and the cut of their sails what nation they belonged to, pointing out to me the differences, which I soon began to perceive.  He had been in every part of the world, and scarcely a day passed in which I did not gain from him some amusing or useful information.  Indeed, I became so fond of his company that Peter Anderson spoke to me on the subject, and asked me what Spicer talked about.  I told him, and he replied: