158 MEMOIR OF GEOUGE WILSON. CHAP. III. 



accident : and when I pushed one of them too hard, he began 

 his speech by telling me, that ' we in arguing in England do so 

 and so/ implying a full anxiety to show he knew my nation, 

 and hated it. However, disregarding the taunt, I baffled them 

 all, and was not a little amused next morning, when a surgeon 

 of dragoons, who had lain in some corner or other within ear- 

 shot of us, remarked to one of them on the amusement he had 

 had listening to our conversation, adding, 'There was a great 

 deal of eloquence in it at times.' I take the credit of all the 

 eloquence to myself, the precious triumvirate can divide the 

 remainder of praise among them. I and the surgeon enjoyed a 

 laugh at them afterwards. All that is episodical. After talk- 

 ing a while, I thought I heard the steam cease blowing, which 

 is always dangerous if the steamboat be still, and I immediately 

 dressed and went on deck. The steam, however, was blowing 

 away all right, but one of the engines was completely maimed. 

 The whole crew were at work unshipping the broken engine, a 

 work of nearly two hours, during which time we were lying off 

 North Shields, on the Sunderland coast. The night was most 

 beautiful, the water as still as a mill-pond, which was well for 

 us. Had the wind blown hard, it would have been scarcely 

 possible for us to have managed ; and had the gale blown on 

 the shore, nothing could have saved us but casting anchor, 

 which cannot always be done on these coasts. As it was, we 

 not only lost two hours in absolute inaction, but being palsied 

 of one side, we could only creep along at five or six miles an 

 hour, so that it was one o'clock last night before we reached 

 Hull. One of the many pigs which we had on board walked 

 overboard in the confusion, and was to be heard squealing at a 

 distance. A boat was sent in pursuit, and I had an opportunity 

 of seeing verified two truths sometimes doubted. A foolish pre - 

 judice prevails that swine cannot swim, but cut their throats 

 with their feet ; but this pig, I assure you, swam, and well too, 

 so well as to be nearly a mile off. What was its exact object 

 in going over, has not yet transpired. Whether it had been 

 exhausted with its exertions in the way of squealing the night 

 before, and wished a cold bath ; or mistook the English coast 

 for its own beloved Irish coast, and was journeying homewards, 



