fancy to him, and send him little delicacies and
books from the cabin. You ought to have wit-
nessed the rich scene that took place when he
came up, stammering and very sick, to thank her!
Didn't she flash up grandly and beautifully and
scornfully? So like " Medora," Rattler said, -- Rat-
tler knew Byron by heart, -- and wasn't old Fagg
awfully cut up? But he got over it, and when
Rattler fell sick at Valparaiso, old Fagg used to
nurse him. You see he was a good sort of fellow,
but he lacked manliness and spirit.

He had absolutely no idea of poetry. I've seen
him sit stolidly by, mending his old clothes, when
Rattler delivered that stirring apostrophe of By-
ron's to the ocean. He asked Rattler once, quite
seriously, if he thought Byron was ever sea-sick.
I don't remember Rattler's reply, but I know we
all laughed very much, and I have no doubt it was
something good, for Rattler was smart.

When the "Skyscraper" arrived at San Fran-
cisco we had a grand "feed." We agreed to meet
every year and perpetuate the occasion. Of course
we didn't invite Fagg. Fagg was a steerage-pas-
senger, and it was necessary, you see, now we were
ashore, to exercise a little discretion. But Old Fagg,
as we called him, -- he was only about twenty-five
years old, by the way, -- was the source of im-
mense amusement to us that day. It appeared
that he had conceived the idea that he could walk

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