impatient of his authority; but I still stuck by the ship.

We had an ordinary run to Charleston, and began to prepare for the
reception of our cargo. At this time, there were two French privateers on
the southern coast, that did a great deal of damage to our trade. One went
into Savannah, and got burned, for her pains; and the other came into
Charleston, and narrowly escaped the same fate. A mob collected--made a
fire-raft, and came alongside of our ship, demanding some tar. To own the
truth, though then clothed with all the dignity of a "Dicky," [5] I liked
the fun, and offered no resistance. Bill Swett had come in, in a ship
called the United States; and he was on board the Sterling, at the time,
on a visit to me. We two, off hatches, and whipped a barrel of tar on
deck; which we turned over to the raftsmen, with our hearty good wishes
for their success. All this was, legally, very wrong; but, I still think,
it was not so very far from being morally just; at least, as regards the
privateersmen. The attempt failed, however, and those implicated were
blamed a great deal more than they would have been, had they burned up the
Frenchmen's eye-bolts. It is bad to fail, in a legal undertaking; but
success is indispensable for forgiveness, to one that is illegal.

That night, Captain B---- and the chief mate, came down upon me, like a
gust, for having parted with the tar. They concluded their lecture, by
threatening to work me up. Bill Swett was by, and he got his share of the
dose. When we were left to ourselves, we held a council of war, about
future proceedings. Our crew had run, to a man, the cook excepted, as
usually happens, in Charleston; and we brought in the cook, as a
counsellor. This man told me, that he had overheard the captain and mate
laying a plan to give me a threshing, as soon as I had turned in. Bill,
now, frankly proposed that I should run, as well as himself; for he had
already left his ship; and our plan was soon laid. Bill went ashore, and