IS*

LIFE

THE MISSISSIPPI.

I moved back a step or two, and stood as in a dream, all my

senses stupefied
by this frantic
assault.

* What you
standing there
for? Take that
ice - pitcher
down to the
tesas - tender—
come, move a-
long, and don't
you be all day
about it!'

The mo-
ment I got back
to the pilot-
house, Brown
said—

* Here ! What was you doing down
there all this time ?J

*I couldn't find the texas-tender;
I had to go all the way to the pantry.'

* Denied likely story ! Fill up the
stove.'

I proceeded to do so. He watched
me like a cat. Presently he shouted- -

* Put down that shovel ? Derndest
numskull I ever saw—ain't even got
sense enough to load up a stove.'

All through the watch this sort of
thing went on. Yes, and the subsequent
watches were much like it, during a
stretch of months. As I have said, I
* TAKE THAT ICE PITCHER.' soon got the habit of coming on duty

with dread. The moment I was in the
presence, even in the darkest night, I could feel those yellow eyes