Now then for a splice to the yarn I sent you Saturday. As I was standing by George in the gangway of the “Globe,” a young fellow stepped on board & I said, “There’s a midshipman going up with us.”

His appearance and manners were so characteristic I could not help noticing him—then, & after the boat had left the wharf; as he stood by the side of the wheel room, in a Spanish cloak & a rakish cap, without lace, & the button half concealed, as if he was pretending “to sink the quality” as those fellows often do. Bye & bye the Captain asked him into the wheel-house & I thought he was “showing off” as he answered that he “liked the wind best.” However, I wished the Captain would be as civil to me.

Towards evening after we had passed Hell Gate, as I was pacing the cabin, the quasi middy, coming down the companion [way], run foul of me & immediately apologized as the cabin was dark, &c. I entered into conversation with him & soon learned that he had never been in Hartford, but had once been in Middletown at school. “Since when, I have been at sea.”

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“In the navy, I presume.”

“No, in the merchant service.”

“Indeed,” I replied, “I expect to go to sea myself in a few weeks.”

“You do?” said he, “I have shipped to sail about the middle of the month.”

“In the Ronaldson?”

“Yes!”

“So have I. I hope we shall make good shipmates.”

“Good.”

“Come, let’s sit down & talk it out.”

“Very well.”

Now wasn’t that a “pretty passage.” I saw immediately that he was the “very good boy” Captain Fox had spoken of. You may imagine he “spun right off the reel,” & I got just all sorts of information & “most desirable articles for the market.”

His father is Braisted of U.S. Hotel, New York, & he knew me from having seen me there. He had been sick & Captain Roath who boards at U.S. Hotel was taking him for “an airing.” Of course, we supped & chequered & newspapered & slept & got up to look at the (occasional) ice & “returned in,” etc. together. And when the steward woke me up for “Tickets sir, if you please” & I found it was five o’clock & the boat coming ’longside the wharf: didn’t we go up to the Captain & didn’t I tell him we were going to be shipmates, & we might as well be messmates & he must let him go up & take breakfast with me. And didn’t we go up to the house before anybody was up & Aunt Maria open the door “en dishabile,” and didn’t we, & didn’t we hang together all the forenoon & get as thick as pickpockets? Didn’t we? I reeking we did!

Our folks sewed the last stitch of the last thread in the last quilt of the accumulated patchwork of the passing generation, Friday afternoon; & after resting their fingers over Saturday forenoon, began to cut out & contrive the red flannel & check. Oh law.

Aunt Maria has just been telling me that she hoped I would “get a good life preserver & never go way up on to the tip top,” without being sure to take it up with me, so when I was blown off I needn’t get “drowndered.”

Now the “thing of ’t is”: for you to consult & conclude what’s best to be done. You see, I must go to New York in the beginning of your Review Week & shall probably sail before the end of it. Now what do you say? Hadn’t you better see Thatcher?

Let me hear from you immediately.

And send up the “Net” and Lardner.

And just recommend any little things which you think I may be likely to forget.

Give my love to Charley & the rest of ’em.

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I took a most outrageous cold in New York & am now about (or perhaps a little more than) half sick, nevertheless.