The shipping news of that week contained this item:

"Sailed, Bark, _Hebe Maitland_, Clyde, Merchandise for Porto
del Rey."

Now, there is such a place as Porto del Rey, for I was there once,
but not till twenty years later.

The _Hebe Maitland_ didn't always go to the place she was
billed for, and when she did she was apt to be a month late, and
likely couldn't have told what she'd been doing in the meantime.
Somebody had been doing something, but it wasn't the _Hebe
Maitland_. Ships may have notions for aught I know, and the
_Hebe Maitland_ was no fool, but if so, I judge she couldn't
have straightened it out without help; and if she argued and got mad
about it, that was no more than appropriate, for we all argued on the
_Hebe Maitland_.

I've spoken of Captain Clyde. The crew, except one man called
"Irish," were all Yankee folk that Clyde had trained, and most of
them had been caught young and sailed with him already some years. I
never saw so odd an acting crew in the way of arguing. I've seen
Clyde and the bos'n with the Bible between them, arguing over it by
the hour. It was a singular crew to argue. Stevey Todd here, who was
cook, was a Baptist and a Democrat, and the mate he was a
Presbyterian and Republican, and the bos'n he was for Women's Rights,
and there was a man named Simms, who was strong on Predestination and
had a theory of trade winds, but he got to arguing once with a man in
Mobile, who didn't understand Predestination and shot him full of
holes, supposing it might be dangerous. It was a singular crew, and