“ Well, captain,” he asked, “ what’s to
pay?”
“Pay!” said the skipper; “if there’s
anything to pay, I’m the chap that’s got to
do it—so Mister, just tell us what’s the
damage, and I’ll shell out directly—and
thank you in the bargain. I never want a
better Jack-at-a-pincn than you are. Just
say how murh, and here it is.”
“ Poh! poh!” said the passenger, “ you
arc welcome to all 1 have done; but I must
pay for my passage. Is this enough?”
handing him a bank note.
“ Why, this here,” said the captain, look
ing at the note, “ is five times as much as I
should have charged you, if nothing had
happened; but if you say take it, I will, ami
thank yon’ kindly. And now, Mister, I
should like to know where you live, and
what your trade is, if it ain’t asking too
much?”
“ 1 have been a lawyer, and live herea
bouts,” said the stranger.
“ Well, one thing more, and I hope you
won’t think me too sassy : do tell me your
name?”
“ Tompkins,” was the reply.
“ Where from?”
, “ Westchester.”
“ No relation to Squire Caleb Tompkins
up here?*
“ Yes.”
“ Not very near, I take it,” said the cap
tain.
“ Only his brother,” was the response.
“His brother! Caleb Tompkins broth
er!” said the captain, aghast. “ Why, you
can’t be Daniel D. ?” . ,
“ The very same,” said the stranger, ami-
>'ng-
“ Pheugh!” here the captain gave an ui
terjectionid whistle. “ Here’s a pretty bu
siness. By all the pipers, you’re the new
' Governor.
“ So they tell me,” said the Governor.
