them two weeks, then shipped in a full-rigged brig for Boston.
This craft reminded me much of one of my former sea-homes — the brig Porpoise. We left with the tide about four o’clock in the afternoon. While dropping down the Delaware we caught a large sturgeon, which proved to be delicious eating.
We had an extraordinarily long passage, not reaching Boston Light until early on the morning of the seventh day. By eight o’clock the brig was alongside of and made fast to Long Wharf. Bidding my shipmates adieu, I made sail for home. Soon after doubling the north-west corner of Canton Street, I fell in with and spoke "the girl I left behind me." One week later, at two bells, — seven o’clock in the evening, — we got under way, made all sail, and steered a direct course for North Bennett Street. Arriving directly off No. — we hove to, and hailed that godly man, Father Streeter, who tied the true lover’s or matrimonial knot. Then, receiving his blessing and our clearance papers, we started off on the voyage of married life.
Conclusion.
It has been truly said that it is not easy to do justice to the profession of the sailor. His noblest efforts are witnessed only by a few hardy spirits who are themselves actors with him. Not so in other professions. The words of the pulpit fall upon the ears of an attentive audience, whose human sympathies respond. The advocate, pleading in the court of justice, is surrounded by
