"Lord, Hannah, don't dishearten people that-a-way! Why should the steamer do anything of the kind?" said Reuben, with a doubtful and troubled air.

"Because they are always and for everlasting a-doing of such things.

Just think what happened to the 'Geyser'--burst her boiler and scalded everybody to death!"

"Law, Hannah! that was only one in a--"

"And the 'Vesuvius,'" fiercely continued Hannah; "the 'Vesuvius'

caught on fire and burned down to the water's edge, and was so found--a floating charcoal, and every soul on board perished."

"Lord, Hannah, you're enough to make anybody's flesh creep. Surely that was only--"

"And then there was the 'Wave,' as struck St. George's bar and smashed all to pieces, and all on board were drowned!"

"Well, but, Hannah, you know--"

"And the 'Boreas,' that was lost in a gale. And the 'White Bear,'

that was jammed to smash between two icebergs. And the 'Platina,'

that sunk to the bottom with a clear sky and a smooth sea. Sunk to the bottom as if she had been so much lead. And the--"

"Goodness, gracious, me alive! And the Lord bless my soul, Hannah!

You turn my very blood to water with your stories. Ishmael, don't you go!"

"Nonsense, Uncle Reuben! You know Aunt Hannah. She cannot help looking on the darkest side. When I was a boy, she was always prophesying I'd be hung, you know. Positively, sometimes she made me fear I might be," said Ishmael, smiling, and turning an affectionate glance upon his croaking relative.

"Yes, it's all very well for you to talk that way, Ishmael Worth.

But I know one thing. I know I never heard of any sort of a ship going safe into port more than two or three times in the whole course of my life. And I have heard of many and many a shipwreck!"

said Hannah, nodding her head, with the air of one who had just uttered a "knock-down" argument.

"Why, of course, Aunt Hannah. Because, in your remote country neighborhood you always hear of the wreck that happens once in a year or in two years; but you never hear of the thousands upon thousands of ships that are always making safe voyages."

"Oh, Ishmael, hush! It won't do. I'm not convinced. I don't expect ever to see you alive again."

"Law, Hannah, my dear, don't be so disbelieving. Really, now, you disencourage one."

"Hold your tongue, Reuben, you're a fool! I say it, and I stand to it, that steamer will either burst her boiler, or catch on fire, or sink, or something! And we shall never see our boy again."

Here little Molly, who had been attentively listening to the conversation, and, like the poor Desdemona, understood "a horror in the words," if not the words, opened her mouth and set up a howl that was immediately seconded by her brother.

It became necessary to soothe and quiet these youngsters; and Reuben lifted them both to his knees.

"Why, what's the matter with pappy's pets, then? What's all this about?" he inquired, tenderly stroking their heads.

"Cousin Ishmael is going away to be drownded! Boo-hoo-woo!" bawled Molly.

"And be burnt up, too! Ar-r-r-r-r-r-r!" roared Johnny.

"No, I am not going to be either one or the other," said the subject of all this interest cheerfully, as he took the children from Reuben and enthroned them on his own knees. "I am going abroad for a little while, and I will bring you ever so many pretty things when I come back."

They were reassured and stopped howling.

"How is your doll, Molly!"

"Her poor nose is broke."

"I thought so." Well, I will bring you a prettier and a larger doll, that can open and shut its mouth and cry."

"Oh-h!" exclaimed Molly, making great eyes in her surprise and delight.

"Now, what else shall I bring you, besides the new doll?"

"Another one."

"What, two dolls?"

"Yes."

"Well, what else?"

"Another one, too."

"Three dolls! goodness! but tell me what you would like beside the three dolls?"

"Some more dolls," persisted Molly, with her finger in her mouth.

"Whew! What would you like, Johnny?" inquired Ishmael, smiling on the little boy.

"I'd like a hatchet all of my own. I want one the worst kind of a way," said Johnny solemnly.

"Shall I bring him a little box of dwarf carpenter tools, Uncle Reuben?" inquired Ishmael doubtfully.

"Just as you please, Ishmael. He can't do much damage with them inside, because Hannah is always here to watch him; and he may hack and saw as much as he likes outside," said Reuben.

These points being settled, and the children not only soothed, but delighted, Ishmael put them off his knees and arose to depart.

He kissed the children, shook hands with Reuben and embraced Hannah, whose maternal tenderness caused her to restrain her emotions and forbear her croakings, lest she should frighten the children again.

When he got outside he found Sam standing by the horse, having just given him water, and being in the act of removing the empty bucket.

Ishmael shook hands with him also, got into the saddle, and, amid the fervent blessings of Reuben and Hannah, recommenced his journey.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE JOURNEY.

Love, hope, and joy, fair pleasure's smiling train; Hate, fear, and grief, the family of pain; These mixed with art and to due bounds confined, Make and maintain the balance of the mind; The lights and shades whose well-accorded strife Give all the strength and color to our life --_Pope_.