18 KEMINISCENSES. 



many a time his entire stock of bread lias been bought up by those, 

 who, let loose for the first time after a long voyage, have rushed to 

 get something fresh, not even waiting for it to cool from the oven. 

 Uncle Sam had a station inside the walls, and here the Custom 

 House officials would wait to board the vessels. They had jolly 

 times, telling long yarns and discussing politics when not on duty. 

 The crews of the customs officers and the doctors were stalwart fel- 

 lows, ready at all times for a knock-down argument. On one occa- 

 sion a Negro captain of a vessel from San Domingo came ashore to 

 buy provisions. He put on considerable style and assumed many 

 airs. Standing one day in front of a store, a number of the boatmen 

 began to draw toward him with their hands behind their backs. 

 Quite unconscious of their movements, he was considerably sur- 

 prised to find a dozen or two of savory eggs besmearing his counte- 

 nance and stylish attire, and following these as many thin paper 

 bags of flour. Seeing that there was no redress in the face of such odds, 

 he quietly walked away. The fourteenth amendment had not yet 

 been passed. 



The regular steamboat landing for the Island was the same as the 

 late Tompkinsville dock. Communication was not the rapid transit 

 of these days, but a few trips in the morning and afternoon with one 

 boat. If 'anybody was carried away with love of theatres or dis- 

 sipation the}' had to stay all night in the city. The steamer Bolivar, 

 could carry about four teams on the forward deck, and not a 

 very big crowd of people in the after saloon, and the wheezing engine 

 propelled her diminutive paddle wheels so as to reach the city in an 

 hour's voyage. Below the forward deck was the bar, where thirsty 

 souls congregated. It happened on one occasion that the bar-keeper 

 having been promoted to the airy position of pilot, essayed his first 

 trip in the morning. Hardly had the boat left the dock when a dense 

 fog settled around. Stopping occasionally, ringing the bell (there 

 being no steam whistle) onward we went. Distant horns on board 

 the vessels lying at anchor, and shouts of men sounded muffled 

 through the encircling fog, but still we sailed until it seemed as if 

 New York had moved away. At length, with a tremendous crash, 

 we rushed into a ship which suddenly loomed up, and bounded back 

 with a broken shaft. Hailing, we found we had been sailing in a 

 circle, and were only prevented from going out to sea by the vessel 



