the cabin which had been allotted to him in the Warriors' Ward, of which
Anderson was the boatswain. My mother, although not very gracious, was
much subdued, and for a few days everything went on very comfortably;
but my mother's temper could not be long restrained. Displeased at
something which she considered as very vulgar, she ventured to assail my
father as before, concluding her tirade as usual, with "There--now
you're vexed!"

My father looked at her very sternly.--At last he said, "You're just
right--I am vexed; and whenever you tell me so in future I'll prove that
it's no lie." He then rose, stumped upstairs to my room, in which he had
deposited his sea-chest, and soon made his appearance with the
formidable and never-to-be-forgotten tail in his hand. "Mistress," said
he, as my mother retreated, "you said, 'Now you're vexed' to me just
now. I ask you again, am I vexed, or am I not?" and my father flourished
the tail over his head.

My mother looked at the strange weapon: the remembrance of the past was
too painful; she was conquered by her fear.

"Oh, no," cried she, falling on her knees. "You're not vexed--indeed you
are not."

"You're quite sure of that?" responded my father authoritatively, as he
advanced toward her.

"Oh! yes, yes," cried my mother, trembling; "indeed you're not."

"Ain't I in a very good humor?" continued my father.