greeted me.

"No," replied Dr. Medway, smiling at his displeased manner; "you must
have work, Sir,--hard work, and hard fare. It would do you no more good
to take a luxurious trip in a steamer, than to remain quietly in your
fashionable lodgings at Baltimore. Your dyspepsia, Sir, can be best
cured by your taking a cruise in a Yankee fishing-smack, bound for the
Banks of Newfoundland."

"Then I shall die," said Clarendon; "and I had almost as lief, as to be
cooped up in a dirty fishing-smack with vulgar sailors, half-starved
with their miserable fare."

"It will do you good in more ways than one," observed Dr. Medway; and
he gave mother a significant look. "We poor Virginians think it
impossible to exist except in a certain way; but you are a young man of
sense, in spite of your prejudices, and will be very much benefited by a
little more familiar intercourse with your fellow-men."

As I stood by, listening to this conversation, I was not surprised at
Clarendon's reluctance to follow Dr. Medway's advice, but much more
astonished when, after arguing the point half an hour longer, he called
for Sukey,--his old mammy, you know,--and told her to have every thing
in readiness for him to leave the next day.

As soon as the Doctor was gone, Clarendon began to see more plainly than
ever the disagreeabilities of the scheme to which he had consented; but
he was too proud to give it up after his word had been pledged.

"I wish I could find somebody to accompany me on this horrid excursion,"