14 FLY-FISHING IN MAINE LAKES. 



nostrils, a sort of cross between a burning bed- 

 blanket and a piece of burned leather. Now, a 

 smoke usually proceeds from a fire j and a fire on 

 a steamboat outside^ of its own legitimate domains, 

 unless it be at the end of a cigar or in the bowl of 

 a pipe, is not a thing to be especially desired, and 

 the more I snuffed the stronger grew the smell : so 

 up I, got, and proceeded on a tour of investigation, 

 through the saloon, down between decks, forward 

 and aft. For five crowded minutes, accompanied 

 by one of the officers of the boat, to whom I com- 

 municated my suspicions, and who divided with me 

 the honors of the smell, did I search for that fire ; 

 when suddenly I felt something hot drop upon a 

 bald spot I wear on the top of my head. Now 

 surely there was cause for alarm : taking off. my hat, 

 a felt one, the origin of the fire was found ; a spark 

 from the smoke-stack had lodged upon the crown 

 of my hat, and committed an act of incendiarism. 

 Rather ludicrous it seemed to strike my friends, but 

 I was never able to see the joke in the same light 

 which they did. Why should I ? I told my wife, as 

 I climbed into the upper berth, that it was a serious 

 subject : the boat might have been on fire ; and, 

 giving a final twist to her locks, that woman who had 

 sworn to "love, honor, and obey," "and all that 

 sort of thing," actually laughed. I always get the 



