"George! if you do I'll jump into the river."
"Agreed! I've got some that'll make you do that."
"You haven't got any that wouldn't."
Neither smiled, neither frowned. Obviously each knew how to like an adversary and when "California" rose and the two, glancing aft, saw another two approaching from the pilot-house, one of whom was Watson, Hayle touched the poet detainingly and said:
"Don't go 'way, I want some more of your prose."
"Want to know why I'm here? Not countin' the fun o' seein' Captain Hugh, half the reason's that gentleman yonder comin' with Mr. Watson, and the other half's his lady, down below a-powwowin' with yo' daughter. Fact is I'd struck it rich again out West and got restless and come East, and at Saint Louis I see by a newspaper that them two was allowin' to go down to Orleans on this boat this trip, and ree-collect-in' the pinch they got into of old on the Votaress, s'I to myself,'me too!'"
Here the other men drew near and, while "California" ran on, silently pressed the big hand offered sidewise by Hayle.
"And with that I set down and writ a poem—took me a whole night—to the best half dozen o' them that was on the other trip, invitin' 'em, at my expense, to jump on when we come by—at New Carthage—Milliken's Bend—Vicksburg—and trustin' to luck and fresh post stamps to find 'em. But little did we dream o' seein' you walk aboard, at Memphis, and still less yo' daughter and her old Joy; did we, Mr. Gilmore?"