CUB-PILOTS EXPERIENCE.

63

could have drawn a seine through his system and not caught curses
enough to disturb your mother with. Presently he said to me in the
gentlest way—

* My boy, you must get a little memorandum book, and every time
I tell you a thing, put it down light away. There's only one way to
be a pilot, and that is to get this entire river by heart. You have
to know it just like ABC.7

That was a dismal revela-
tion to me; for my memory
was never loaded with any-
thing but blank ^
cartridges. How-
ever, I did not feel
discouraged long. I ^
judged that it was
best to make some
allowances, for
doubtless Mr. Bix-
by was ' stretching.'
Presently he pulled
a rope and struck a
'few strokes on the
big bell. The stars
were all gone now,

and the night was as black as ink. I could hear the wheels churn
along the bank, but I was not entirely certain that I could see the
shore. The voice of the invisible watchman called up from the hurri-
cane deck—

* What's this, sir 1'

' Jones's plantation.'

I said to myself, I wish I might venture to offer a small bet that
it isn't. But I did not chirp. I only waited to see. Mr. Bbdby
handled the engine bells, and in due time the boat's nose came to the
land, a torch glowed from the forecastle, a man skipped ashore, a
darky's voice on the bank said, i Gimme de k'yarpet-bag, Mars'
Jones,' and the next moment we were standing up the river again,
all serene. I reflected deeply awhile, and then said—but not aloud—

« GET A MEMORANDUM
BOOK,'