332 NATHANIEL SOUTHGATE SHALER 



beach, for unshod feet, was exceedingly painful. Mr. Shaler 

 afterward said it was the most distressing of any experience he 

 had ever had. But at last the Life-Saving Station, in charge of 

 one Jack Peacock, was reached, and here they stopped for rest 

 and entertainment, entertainment of mind and body; for 

 Jack Peacock, it seems, was a character, and at the moment, 

 having rescued a cask of sherry from the sea, which he had 

 buried in the sand, was engaged, as he phrased it, in running a 

 race with the worms to see which should get the better of the 

 windfall. His red nose proclaimed the fact that he was not only 

 holding his own, but outstripping all other rivals in the race. 

 Mr. Shaler used to give most ludicrous accounts of Jack's con- 

 versations and his philosophical reasons for keeping himself in 

 a state of constant booziness. 



After the mishap, an old student who was then in Florida 

 wrote: 



NEW RIVER, Feb. 5, 1888. 



. . . The first calm day after you left, I was at Hillsboro and, using the 

 mail-carrier's skiff, searched carefully for the things lost in the capsize, but 

 without success ; nor has anything more drifted ashore except a coat and one 

 shoe. I spent nearly half a day drifting about the place of accident, as nearly 

 as I could locate it, but the surface of the reef at that point is so broken and 

 covered with sea-feathers, sponges, etc., that even so large an article as 

 your valise might escape detection. 



My dory was smashed by the heavy sea a few days after your departure. 

 I am rather glad of this as it distributes the burden of the misfortune a little 

 more evenly than at first. I sincerely hope that neither yourself nor the 

 young men with you have suffered any ill effects from your ducking. 



Very respectfully, CHAS. CORMAN. 



CAMBRIDGE, April 3, 1888. 



I arrived here this morning somewhat battered by the sleeping-car air. 

 Children well? 



I feel so lop-sided in my unaccustomed condition of "grass widower" 

 that I shall get away to the Vineyard on Thursday, returning on Mon- 

 day. . . . 



P.S. . . . Mr. Stilwell turned up and to my surprise was induced to stay, 

 so that I shall not go to the Vineyard. 



