"It must be," said good Mrs. Simmons, to herself--"it can't be nothin'

else. Bless the Lord!"

This pious sentiment she followed up by a hymn, whose irregularities of time and tune were fully atoned for by the spirit with which she sung. A knock at the door interrupted her.

"Come in!" she cried.

Captain Sam entered, and laid a good-sized, flat flask on the table, saying:

"I've just been unpackin', an' I found this; p'r'aps you ken use it fur cookin'. It's no use to me; I've sworn off drinkin'."

And before the astonished lady could say a word, he was gone.

But the good soul could endure the suspense no longer. She hurried to the door, and cried:

"Cap'en!"

"That's me," answered Captain Sam, returning.

"Cap'en," said Mrs. Simmons, in a voice in which solemnity and excitement struggled for the mastery, "hez the Lord sent His angel unto you?"

"He hez," replied the captain, in a very decided tone, and abruptly turned, and hurried to his own room.

"Bless the Lord, O my soul!" almost shouted Mrs. Simmons, in her ecstacy. "We musn't worry them that's weak in the faith, but I sha'n't be satisfied till I hear him tell his experience. Oh, _what_ a blessed thing to relate at prayer-meetin' to-night!"

There was, indeed, a rattling of dry bones at the prayer-meeting that night, for it was the first time in the history of the church that the conversion of a steamboat captain had been reported.

On returning home from the meeting, additional proof awaited the happy old saint. The captain was in his room--in his room at nine o'clock in the evening! She had known the captain for years, but he had never before got in so early. There could be no doubt about it, though--there he was, softly whistling.

"I'd rather hear him whistlin' Windham or Boylston," thought Mrs.

Simmons; "that tune don't fit any hymn _I_ know. P'r'aps, though, they sing it in some of them churches up to Cincinnaty," she charitably continued.

"Cap'en," said she, at breakfast, next morning, when the other guests had departed, "is your mind at peace?"

"Peace?" echoed the captain--"peaceful as the Ohio at low water."

The captain's simile was not so Scriptural as the old lady could have desired, but she remembered that he was but a young convert, and that holy conversation was a matter of gradual attainment. So, simply and piously making the best of it, she fervently exclaimed:

"That it may ever be thus is my earnest prayer, cap'en."

"Amen to that," said Captain Sam, very heartily, upsetting the chair in his haste to get out of the room.

For several days Mrs. Simmons lived in a state of bliss unknown to boarding-house keepers, whose joys come only from a sense of provisions purchased cheaply and paying boarders secured.

From the kitchen, the dining-room, or wherever she was, issued sounds of praise and devotion, intoned to some familiar church melody. Scrubbing the kitchen-floor dampened not her ardor, and even the fateful washing-day produced no visible effects on her spirits. From over the bread-pan she sent exultant strains to echo through the house, and her fists vigorously marked time in the yielding dough. From the third-story window, as she hung out the bed-linen to air, her holy notes fell on the ears of passing teamsters, and caused them to cast wondering glances upward. What was the heat of the kitchen-stove to her, now that Captain Sam was insured against flames eternal? What, now, was even money, since Captain Sam had laid up his treasures above?

And the captain's presence, which had always comforted her, was now a perpetual blessing. Always pleasant, kind, and courteous, as of old, but oh, so different!

All the coal-scuttles and water-pails in the house might occupy the stairway at night, but the captain could safely thread his way among them.

No longer did she hurry past his door, with her fingers ready, at the slightest alarm, to act as compressors to her ears; no, the captain's language, though not exactly religious, was eminently proper.

He was at home so much evenings, that his lamp consumed more oil in a week than it used to in months; but the old lady cheerfully refilled it, and complained not that the captain's goodness was costly.

The captain brought home a book or two daily, and left them in his room, seeing which, his self-denying hostess carried up the two flights of stairs her own copies of "Clarke's Commentaries," "The Saints' Best,"

"Joy's Exercises," and "Morning and Night Watches," and arranged them neatly on his table.

Finally, after a few days, Captain Sam seemed to have something to say--something which his usual power of speech was scarcely equal to.

Mrs. Simmons gave him every opportunity.

At last, when he ejaculated, "Mrs. Simmons," just as she was carrying her beloved glass preserve-dish to its place in the parlor-closet, she was so excited that she dropped the brittle treasure, and uttered not a moan over the fragments.

"Mrs. Simmons, I've made up my mind to lead an entirely new life," said the captain, gravely.

"It's what I've been hopin' fur years an' years, cap'en," responded the happy old lady.

"Hev you, though? God bless your motherly old soul," said the captain, warmly. "Well, I've turned over a new leaf, and it don't git turned back again."

"That's right," said Mrs. Simmons, with a happy tear under each spectacle-glass. "Fight the good fight, cap'en."

"Just my little game," continued the captain. "'Tain't ev'ry day that a man ken find an angel willin' to look out fur him, Mrs. Simmons."

"An angel! Oh, cap'en, how richly blessed you hev been!" sobbed Mrs.

Simmons. "Many's the one that hez prayed all their lives long for the comin' of a good sperrit to guide 'em."

"Well, _I've_ got one, sure pop," continued Captain Sam; "and happy ain't any kind of a name fur what I be all the time now."

"Bless you!" said the good woman, wringing the captain's hand fervidly.

"But you'll hev times of trouble an' doubt, off an' on."

"Is that so?" asked the captain, thoughtfully.

"Yes," continued Mrs. Simmons; "but don't be afeard; ev'ry thing'll come right in the end. I know--I've been through it all."

"That's so," said the captain, "you hev that. Well, now, would you mind interdoosin' me to your minister?"

"Mind!" said the good old lady. "I've been a-dyin' to do it ever since you come. I've told him about it, and he's ez glad fur you ez I am."

"Oh!" said the captain, looking a little confused, "you suspected it, did you?"

"From the very minute you fust kem," replied Mrs. Simmons; "I know the signs."

"Well," said the captain, "might ez well see him fust as last then, I reckon."

"I'll get ready right away," said Mrs. Simmons. And away she hurried, leaving the captain greatly puzzled.

The old lady put on her newest bombazine dress--all this happened ten years ago, ladies--and a hat to match.

Never before had these articles of dress been seen by the irreligious light of a weekday; the day seemed fully as holy as an ordinary Sabbath.