“It's no use a pumpin', captin', and I won't! She may sink and be dern'd!”
The concluding part of this remark started my senses into activity, and, after an effort, I turned round on my foot-wide couch, and took a survey of my “sleeping partners,” to observe how the voice had affected them; but not a muscle moved—all were chorussing beautifully the lays of dream-land. The certainty' of our “sinking and be dern'd,” was soon apparent, for the light of the lamp, suspended from the ceiling of the cabin, soon began to be reflected from the floor—the waters were quietly stealing upon the unconscious sleepers. My first impulse was to sound the alarm, but, fortunately, possessing a “top shelf,” and conscious that we could sink but a few feet, I held my peace until the water should increase its depth, being sure of fun when I gave the signal.
A pair of boots now commenced a very fair forward-two to a boot-jack which was busily engaged in executing a chassez before a nodding hat,—stockings were wriggling about, as if pleased with the fun, and, in a few minutes more, all was a scene of life among the sleepers' “unconsidered trifles” of wardrobe carelessly cast upon the floor. The water having reached within a few inches of the slumbering pair upon the cane-bottomed settees, I sounded the alarm, by shouting—“Murder! boat's sinking! hurrah! help!” Off tumbled the Irishman and Yankee—splash—dash—flounder and exclamation!
“Holy Virgin! what's this?” inquired Pat.
“Cre-a-tion and the deluge!” shouted Jonathan “Good gwacious!” piped in the dandy.
Down hopped the tenants of the shelves, like bodies in a family vault at the general rising—up again they hopped, light as spirits and twice as natural, the instant their pedal extremities touched the water.
“Take it cool, gentlemen,” shouted a westerner, from a top berth, “these are the canal extras.”
A lady, at this moment, parted the curtains of their cabin—the Emeralder, with true gallantry, seized her in his arms, with a shout of “Riscue the ladies!” and bore her out on deck. Jonathan, not to be outdone by a foreigner, stood ready for the second, but her weight (only two hundred pounds) put a stumper on his gallantry. Yankee ingenuity, however, overcame the difficulty,—by making a bridge of the cane settees, the ladies were safely conducted from their watery quarters.
It was a funny scene on deck, that night, and little ceremony was observed in making a toilet. None, however, seemed to take the matter seriously but the dandy—he had lost all his beautifying essentials, in the confusion, and was almost frightened to death at his hair-breadth 'scape. Jonathan was offering him some crumbs of comfort, to induce him to make a purchase for his future safety.
“I'll tell you what, Mister,” says Jonathan, “jest buy one of my everlastin'-no-drownin'-dry-and-water-tight-life-presarvers, and when you git it fixed right, it'll keep you so dry you'll have to sprinkle yourself to stick together.”