"Upton!" responded the other brass tube.

"Hope you're very well, Captain Upton!" said brass tube number one, obscuring the face of the speaker like a total eclipse.

"Very well, thank you," answered tube number two in the same style. "What ship is that, pray?"

"Mandarin, of Nantucket."

"Hope to see you well, Captain Barney."

Much muttering now ensued among our wiseacres, each of whom had known it was the Mandarin all along, and had told all the rest so, half an hour ago. Anybody might have known that was the Mandarin's figure-head. All which somewhat interfered with the clear understanding of the rest of the dialogue, which was now carried on between the brass tubes at a furious rate. "What success?—Sixteen hundred.—What port are you from last?—Oahu.—How long are you from home?—Forty-five days.—Got any letters for us?—Yes. Come aboard.—Thank you, I will." A flourish of the trumpet, and the Mandarin's crew are seen running to the braces, as her helm is clapped a starboard, and she rounds to the wind at a handsome distance under our lee, with her maintopsail thrown aback for an old-fashioned "gam."

Supper is delayed for the guests to arrive; several of us dive below, embracing the opportunity to write a few lines to our friends at home; Old Jeff growls at us for being in such a hurry, and says there's plenty of time between now and midnight; for we are sure to "gam" till that time.

"Captain Barney and the old man are cronies, and they'll have to kill all the whales in the ocean across the cabin table, before they part company."

A light whaleboat is presently seen to drop from under the Mandarin's lee-quarter, and comes bounding to windward under the powerful impulse of her oars, the sturdy and regular strokes telling of old and trained hands who wield them. A petty officer is steering, while his majesty the captain stands firmly planted in the stern sheets, with his legs spread apart in an attitude suggestive of an inverted letter Y, and benignly regards his loyal subjects at the oars, who stretch to their work in gallant style, as if conscious that they "bear Cæsar and his fortunes." The principal impelling motive, however, is their eagerness to levy contributions upon the "greenies." Already they imagine themselves returning with bundles of books and papers tied up with rope-yarns, and shirt-bosoms corpulent with new tobacco, a luxury to which their teeth have been strangers for many a day.