the current to a certain landing-place in
Virginia, where an emissary of our firm would be
in waiting, ready to superintend the transmission
of the goods overland to Baltimore, where
two schooners were lying in readiness for their
reception. So far, so good; but one thing
puzzled me. It might have seemed natural that
I should accompany or precede my purchases on
their way to the north-east. Not so. I was
expressly enjoined to remain in Cincinnati until
further orders reached me. It was obscurely
hinted that my next mission might be one of
increased importance, further south, and that my
salary might also be augmented, in token of the
house's appreciation of my energy.

"There," said the major, as I concluded my
bargain with the boatmen to whom the flats
belonged, and as we smoked our cigars on the
promenade deck of the steamer working
upstream— "there! Your business is over, and a
good spec it will prove, if the Britishers pay
well, for never were good mast and cob-fed
grunters bought for fewer cents a pound, and the
flour's as sweet as a nosegay. A rough diamond
that old Dan Wormald, the pig-merchant."

"He was, indeed," said I, as I recalled the
gaunt grizzled countryman who still wore the
uncouth attire of the early "pioneers," and
whose leathern hunting-shirt and boots of
well-greased hide matched well with his horn-hafted
knife and five-foot rifle; "he was, indeed, and
one I should be very sorry to offend. What's
the matter? Some one overboard?"

So indeed it was, as a shrill outcry of female
voices announced, and there was a rush to the
side of the vessel. It was a poor little black
child, a girl of six, that had fallen overboard.
We saw her frock of light-hued cotton, float for
a moment on the surface of the turbid river,
now flecked with white foam and boiling eddies,
for the pilot had hastily called to reverse the
engine. The father, a stunted ugly little man,
with a basket of carpenter's tools at his back,
was hanging over the rail forward, and screaming
out passionate and incoherent entreaties that
some one would "sabe Polly."

"Let every chap shoe his own hoss. River
runs like a mill-swash," muttered a lean sallow-
cheeked Yankee at my elbow. This seemed to
be the general sentiment of the company,
though two or three of the deck hands bustled
to launch the dingy, under the captain's orders.
Just then I caught sight of the poor little
frightened face coming to the surface again;
there was no resisting the piteous childish eyes;
and before I well knew that my mind was
made up, I had flung my coat off, plunged into
the yellow waves, and caught a firm grasp of
the drowning child. I could swim well, but the
current was strong, and I was swept down
many yards, before the boat overtook me, yet
the whole thing was over in a couple of
minutes, and I was aboard again, dripping like a wet
water-spaniel, and the steamer was under weigh,
while the negro carpenter was hugging his little
daughter in his arms, and almost deafening me
with his clamorous thanks.

"There, my good man—there—it's all right.
You are very welcome to the trifling service I
rendered you—but pray don't do that," said I,
as I tried to shake off the enthusiastic negro,
who clung to my hand, and wanted to kiss my
feet, and made himself and me ridiculous in the
eyes of the white passengers.

"O massa, mas'r Britisher, Job thank you
so, poor black rascal so 'bliged! Mas'r not
know what Polly is now to Ole Job, de only joy
of him life, ebber since him poor wife Dinah die,
same year we run from Alabama plantation, sar,
and Job carry child in 'um arms, all way, through
swamp and——"

"Come, come, we can't have this here. The
child's all right, barring a wetting. Get away
down ladder to your own part of the boat!" said
Major Pook, pushing the humble little man
away, kindly but peremptorily. As the negro
made a parting salute and shambled off to the
portion of the steamer reserved for those of his
colour, I saw that he was lame, and that even
if he had been a swimmer (no common
accomplishment in America), he could not have made
the plunge overboard with any chance of rescuing
the sufferer. As for myself, I had merely
obeyed an instinctive impulse in hurrying to the
aid of a helpless creature, white or black; and
while I wanted no credit for an act of common
humanity, I was a little annoyed by the sneering
comments of some of the passengers, who
seemed to think me Quixotic for risking my
own life for that of a "nigger brat." In half
an hour we arrived at Cincinnati, where I
changed my wet clothes. Having averted a cold,
or a touch of fever, by taking a liberal supply
of what the major called "brandy medicine,"
before quitting the packet, I was in no way the
worse for my immersion.

Matters went on smoothly. The provisions,
dead and alive, were duly shipped and sent
up-stream, and, while awaiting fresh orders
from Petter and partners, I received several
invitations from the hospitable people of
Cincinnati, and had no reason to complain of my
position. Once or twice I happened to meet
Job, the black carpenter, who was a dweller in
one of the suburbs of the city, and I am afraid
I was rather harsh in my decisive rejection of
the poor little dusky fellow's proffered civilities.
Job was very grateful, but his feelings prompted
him to such ludicrous exuberance of homage
and affection that I was compelled to shirk his
society. A Briton is rarely pleased with any
public expression of sentiment; and besides, I
fear I was learning from the Americans around
me to view the coloured race with something of
their own contempt.

People in the Western States almost always
dine early, and there was nothing extraordinary
in Major Pook's asking me to dinner at two
o'clock on the Saturday which followed the
shipment of the provisions. Saturday, in
Cincinnati, is always a busy day, as the market is
sure to be thronged, and the country-folks to
assemble in greater numbers than on other
occasions.