“Avaunt! avaunt!” said the big man with the large whiskers, and they all made a rush at Dusenberry, and drove him over the rail and back to the wharf, where he demanded the assistance of those anxious spectators, for and in the name of the State.  It was a right good vaudeville comique, played in dialogue and pantomime.  The point of the piece, which, with a little arrangement, might have made an excellent production, consisted of a misunderstanding between an Irishman and a Frenchman about South Carolina, and a law so peculiar that no stranger could comprehend its meaning at first and as neither could understand the language of the other, the more they explained the more confounded the object became, until, from piquant comique, the scene was worked into the appearance of a tragedy.  One represented his ship, and to him his ship was his nation; the other represented South Carolina, and to him South Carolina was the United States; and the question was, which had the best right to the little darkie.

The spectators on the wharf were not inclined to move, either not wishing to meddle themselves with South Carolina’s affairs-wanting larger game to show their bravery-or some more respectable officer to act in command.  The little darkie, seeing Dusenberry driven to the wharf, ran to the gangway, and protruding his head over the rail, worked his black phiz into a dozen pert expressions, showing his ivory, rolling the white of his eyes, and crooking his finger upon his nose in aggravating contempt.

“Shure, we’ll turn the guard out and take ye an’ yer ship, anyhow.  Why don’t yees give the nager up dasently, an’ don’t be botherin’.  An’ isn’t it the law of South Carolina, be dad; an’ be the mortis, ye’d be getting’ no small dale of a pinalty for the same yer doin’,” said Dunn.

A gentleman, who had been a silent looker-on, thinking it no more than proper to proffer his mediation, perceiving where the difficulty lay, stepped on board and introducing himself to the captain, addressed him in French, and explained the nature of the proceeding.  The captain shook his head for some time, and shrugged his shoulders.  “La police y est bien administr‚e,” said he, with an air of politeness; and speaking to his mate, that officer again spoke to the men, and Dusenberry was told by the gentleman that he could come on board.  Without further ceremony, he mounted the rail and made a second attempt at the young urchin, who screamed and ran into the cook’s galley, amid the applause of the seamen, who made all sorts of shouts inciting him to run, crying out, “Run, Baptiste! run, Baptiste!” In this manner the little darkie kept the officer at bay for more than fifteen minutes, passing out of one door as the officer entered the other, to the infinite delight of the crew.  At length his patience became wearied, and as he was about to call Dunn to his assistance, the captain came up, and calling the child to him-for such he was-delivered him up, the little fellow roaring at the top of his voice as the big officer carried him over the rail under his arm.  This ended the vaudeville comique on board of the French bark Nouvelle Amelie, Captain Gilliet.