280 The Steam-Boat ; a Paper of my Uncle's. [Sept. 



ment against mankind, that ingenuity and rancour could suggest, had 

 been most skilfully developed to Miss B., (as her acquaintance called 

 her,) by the person I am just about to specify, and who figured in the 

 present coterie. 



Miss Jack, a woman thirty years of age, possessed no personal attrac- 

 tions, but a monstrous stock of vanity, which experience had, however, 

 disabused. The succession of her disappointments in various "enter- 

 prises on the heart of man," had totally converted all the sweetness of 

 the female disposition into its acetous opposite. She had, at length, 

 adopted a common refuge of the " unbeloved," affected to despise the 

 charms that were denied her, and arrogated to herself the attributes of 

 a superior understanding, aiming at the conduct of masculine peculiarity. 

 She was, therefore, licensed (so she thought,) to be impertinent and 

 rude, and in the privilege of ugliness and waning years, united with the 



impunity belonging to no, not her female, but her neuter gender, 



would incessantly make witless, pert, unfeeling, coarse remarks ; for 

 which, if she had been a man, her nose would have been pulled, and if, 

 in all respects, a woman, the gentleness of nature would have shocked 

 her, had they issued from the lips of any other even of her sex. The 

 fear of her companions had conferred the character of cleverness on her 

 unamiable pertness — her spite had been denoted satire — her unfeminine 

 audacity was strength of mind. In short, flattery, founded upon terror 

 of her tongue, did more for the revenge of all her friends, who cordially 

 detested her, than any other species of dislike could possibly have done. 

 She thought herself a perfect wit. She made war on her opponents 

 with the artillery of adages and maxims — had always an ill-natured 

 misconstruction to apply to every act, however laudable or harmless — 

 was a splendid liar, a perennial fountain of malignity and slander, and 

 last, not least, the attendant toad-eater and guardian-dragon of the rich 

 Miss Biddlecombe. 



Wherry after wherry reached the steam-boat, and all was bustle and 

 confusion save myself and my old acquaintance. Colonel Peregrine, an 

 officer who had visited most regions of the globe, and who had quietly 

 selected, in good time, the seat which, under every likely circumstance 

 of wind, and weather, and society, was least objectionable to a gentleman 

 of his contemplative and tranquil character. As we sat together we were 

 able to observe the strange diversity as well as the remarkable coinci- 

 dence of various characters, as they successively appeared. The grandeur 

 of some clerks and swaggering apprentices, who paid, with a pretending 

 air, a larger fare than was required by the insatiable watermen, who 

 throng the stairs ; the bickering of others, who resolved on a resistance 

 to all imposition, and who threatened, on returning, to chastise the 

 insolence of such extortions as were levied in the bustle of departure. 

 Then again was the distraction of young ladies, who had left behind a 

 parasol, a ring, or reticule — in coaches, inns, or boats — in short, a medley 

 of peculiarities, which any one accustomed to a steamer may now 

 remember, though perhaps he never thought them worthy of remark. 

 An attorney was excessively severe in his denunciation of exaction — and 

 referred with true professional precaution to his book of fares; in doing 

 which the breeze, that, like the tide, pays no respect to persons, wafted 

 from the various papers in his hand — a writ ! which, after having 

 hovered for a moment in the air above the vessel, was calmly borne by 

 certiorari to the shore. 



