bub.  What's the trouble?” I says: “Pap, and mam, and sis, and--” Then I broke down.  He says: “Oh, dang it now, _don't_ take on so; we all has to have our troubles, and this 'n 'll come out all right.  What's the matter with 'em?” “They're--they're--are you the watchman of the boat?” “Yes,” he says, kind of pretty-well-satisfied like. “I'm the captain and the owner and the mate and the pilot and watchman and head deck-hand; and sometimes I'm the freight and passengers.  I ain't as rich as old Jim Hornback, and I can't be so blame' generous and good to Tom, Dick, and Harry as what he is, and slam around money the way he does; but I've told him a many a time 't I wouldn't trade places with him; for, says I, a sailor's life's the life for me, and I'm derned if _I'd_ live two mile out o' town, where there ain't nothing ever goin' on, not for all his spondulicks and as much more on top of it.  Says I--” I broke in and says: “They're in an awful peck of trouble, and--” “_Who_ is?” “Why, pap and mam and sis and Miss Hooker; and if you'd take your ferryboat and go up there--” “Up where?  Where are they?” “On the wreck.” “What wreck?” “Why, there ain't but one.” “What, you don't mean the Walter Scott?” “Yes.” “Good land! what are they doin' _there_, for gracious sakes?” “Well, they didn't go there a-purpose.” “I bet they didn't!  Why, great goodness, there ain't no chance for 'em if they don't git off mighty quick!  Why, how in the nation did they ever git into such a scrape?” “Easy enough.  Miss Hooker was a-visiting up there to the town--” “Yes, Booth's Landing--go on.” “She was a-visiting there at Booth's Landing, and just in the edge of the evening she started over with her nigger woman in the horse-ferry to stay all night at her friend's house, Miss What-you-may-call-her I disremember her name--and they lost their steering-oar, and swung around and went a-floating down, stern first, about two mile, and saddle-baggsed on the wreck, and the ferrym