rest, it afforded them much amusement to see him play so active a part in devouring the food.  “I am not a subject for jest, I would have you all know,” said the major, with an air of much displeasure.  “It never was charged upon me that I was a man of ill temper; or that I was a man easily given to quarrels; and as these things are surely true, so it will not do for you to trifle with my respectability.  There must also be that difference between us which my military position demands.”  The sternness of these remarks, and the great gravity with which they were delivered, produced a silence that lasted for several minutes, and likewise so confounded me that I began to think his brain was not so much at fault after all.  Each in turn now broke silence by offering an apology, and treated him with so much consideration, that he arose from his seat in the very best humor possible, saying that as they had set so good an example, he must acknowledge that he was sorry for what he had said, and hoped they would set it down to his quick impulses, which, though incident to the feelings of a good soldier, were marvelously apt to lead him astray.  He now remembered that he had left his bridle and holsters upon old Battle, and repaired upon deck to relieve him of the burden, which he did with much care and many caresses.

At ten o’clock, the major, who was not a little anxious lest the “Two Marys” should come in collision with some larger craft, undressed and retired to his berth, where the trouble of the nation ceased for a time to distract his brain.  All now went smoothly on until midnight, when, it being Luke’s wife’s watch on deck, the major awoke from his first nap, and hearing his pig running about the deck, making divers noises, as if in great distress, hastened to his relief in a condition not easily described in this history.  The pig seeing the major in pursuit of him, ran aft with a mischievous grunt, and was evidently inclined to seek a shelter under the honest woman’s garments.  And in fear of a liberty by no means sanctioned in books of true politeness, she gave out a loud scream just as the major, unconscious of the state he was in, for he was too gallant a soldier to have exposed himself to a female, not even in the starlight, tripped over a rope and fell against her with such force that both came to the deck, and with so much noise as to bring Captain Luke, (who would have sworn some strange craft was grinding the timbers out of the “Two Marys,”) immediately to the rescue.  Unfortunately for the gallant major, he had fallen uppermost, and in a position where the binnacle light threw a curious shadow over that part of his person he was most scrupulous in protecting, as are all military gentlemen of quality.  I think it may be said, without disparagement to this history, that neither Alexander, nor Napoleon, nor Wellington, nor, indeed, any of the great warriors, whose deeds historians have recorded with so much ostentation, ever met with so strange an accident,