Now the patience of my reader may fairly be considered
a "private right." I shall, therefore, respect its
boundaries and proceed at once with my narrative, having
been already quite long enough about "uncorking a bottle."




CHAPTER II.

A JUICY DAY IN THE COUNTRY.

All our preparations for the voyage having been completed,
we spent the last day at our disposal, in visiting
Brooklyn. The weather was uncommonly fine, the sky being
perfectly clear and unclouded; and though the sun shone
out brilliantly, the heat was tempered by a cool, bracing,
westwardly wind. Its influence was perceptible on the
spirits of every body on board the ferry-boat that
transported us across the harbour.

"Squire," said Mr. Slick, aint this as pretty a day as
you'll see atween this and Nova Scotia?--You can't beat
American weather, when it chooses, in no part of the
world I've ever been in yet. This day is a tip-topper,
and it's the last we'll see of the kind till we get back
agin, _I_ know. Take a fool's advice, for once, and stick
to it, as long as there is any of it left, for you'll
see the difference when you get to England. There never
was so rainy a place in the univarse, as that, I don't