me with contempt for the vile deck-loads of hay and lumber, with which
my river experience was familiar.

"Will sail on Tuesday the 20th of May"--and the newspaper bore date the
fifth of the month! Fifteen whole days beforehand; think of that; what
an important voyage it must be, that the time of sailing was fixed upon
so long beforehand; the river sloops were not used to make such
prospective announcements.

"For freight or passage apply on board!"

Think of going on board a coppered and copper-fastened brig, and taking
passage for Bremen! And who could be going to Bremen? No one but
foreigners, doubtless; men of dark complexions and jet-black whiskers,
who talked French.

"Coenties Slip."

Plenty more brigs and any quantity of ships must be lying there.
Coenties Slip must be somewhere near ranges of grim-looking warehouses,
with rusty iron doors and shutters, and tiled roofs; and old anchors and
chain-cable piled on the walk. Old-fashioned coffeehouses, also, much
abound in that neighborhood, with sunburnt sea-captains going in and
out, smoking cigars, and talking about Havanna, London, and Calcutta.

All these my imaginations were wonderfully assisted by certain shadowy
reminiscences of wharves, and warehouses, and shipping, with which a
residence in a seaport during early childhood had supplied me.

Particularly, I remembered standing with my father on the wharf when a