STEPHENS has drawn nearly everything on earth, but Mr. P. did not
believe that he ever drew a devil-fish. Not from life, anyway.
As they sailed out to sea, Mr. P.'s heart beat faster, and his brain
throbbed with delight as he thought of his great possible triumph.
He fished for two hours and never got a bite. There was too much talking
at the stern. Mr. P. looked around, and there were three men there,
beside the sailor-man! "Confound it!" thought Mr. P.; "they must have
got on while I was fixing my lines, before we started." After this wise
reflection, he objurgated the sailor-man, but the latter wanted to know
if he wasn't to make any profit out of his stern and his mid-ships, as
well as his bow, and he objurgated back with such force that Mr. P. gave
him no further attention, but, turning to the interlopers, he said:
"I'm not so much surprised to see you, Mr. DELANO, for if any man in the
country pushes himself and his hirelings where neither he nor they are
wanted, it's you; but why you, HORACE GREELEY, and you, JIMMY HAGGARTY,
should be here, I'm sure I don't know."
"Oh, we're all in the same boat, PUNCHY, said DELANO, knocking off his
ashes to the windward of the Philosopher.
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