"Crew? I have never found it necessary to have any, neighbor; navigation never engrossed a great deal of my attention, but I get along down here very well—without a crew!"
"You do?" responded the judge; "well, we're going to hang you up."
"You are, eh?" was the cool reply; "well, I have always been opposed to capital punishment, neighbor, and I know it would be unpleasant to me now!"
The quiet manner of his reply rather won upon the Court, and says the judge—
"Who are you, and where are you from?"
"My name is Banvard—John Banvard, from Boston!"
"It is, eh? What are you doing along here, alone in a canoe?"
"Taking a panorama of the Mississippi, neighbor, that's all."
The Court adjourned sine die; the clever artist was untied, treated to the best the market afforded, that night; his canoe, rifle, &c., restored next day, and John went on his way rejoicing in his narrow escape—finished his sketches, and the first great panorama "got up" in our country, and which he took to Europe, after making a fortune by it in America.