“Och! if she's fully insured, all's right,” says Michael, whispering safety to his heart, “and the boy that I came wid, says she can run up a tree if there's a dhrap of wather on it.”

“If she don't run up a tree,” was the reply, “she'll be sure to run agin a snaggy one, and then, I predicate, some of her passengers 'll be blow'd tree high, so you're in for it, old hoss! Good by,—I say, if you should see my old uncle down thar,” pointing at the same time significantly to the rushing river, “the one I mean who didn't leave me any money, tell him for me, as he's gone to the d———l, to shake himself—will you?” and after delivering himself of this soothing request, he vanished, leaving Michael fancying himself astride of a 'scape pipe riding over tree tops, rocket fashion.

“Och sorra the day I iver put fut among sich hay-thins!” soliloquised Michael, “to talk of a man's bein' blown to smithereens, as if it were but a gintle rap wid a shillaleh—faith its out uv this I'll be immigratin' quicker than you could peel a pratie,” and forthwith he proceeded to move, with all possible haste, his stock of worldly effects; observing which the runner, who had awoke his fears, shouted out as a quickener, “don't forget uncle, for he would think it dreadful mean, if I didn't send word by somebody I knew goin' direct.”

“Leave that luggage alone,” savagely shouted the mate, “you can't leave this boat—you're engaged.”

“Thrue for ye's,” says Michael in a doleful tone, “be dad I was omadhaun enough to do that same, and ye's can blow me up when iver you're a mind to.”

“We don't blow her up,” says the mate, “until the downward trip, unless some gentleman's requested it in his bargain; if you've got a flying ticket we are bound to accommodate you,” and just at that moment, whiz went a steam-cock.

“Be aisy for the Lord's sake,” shouted Michael, “blow her up for the gintleman comin' down; as I'm not used to it, I might fall awkwardly in some man's apple orchard and desthroy a peach tree—d'ye mind.” Having been assured that all was safe, and that by express desire the blowing up was deferred, he took his seat at the stern. As the shades of evening gathered around the boat and over the waters, the steamer pushed from her moorings,—the last we saw of Michael he was holding in one hand a small string of beads, with a rosary attached, while the other grasped the painter of the jolly-boat towing astern, and his eye with a doubtful, but resigned expression, was firmly fixed on the shaky 'scape-pipe-.


FUN WITH A “BAB.” A NIGHT ADVENTURE ON THE MISSOURI.