folded steamer chairs, a pounce by the third mate, and out came the unfortunate Cupple, dragged by the collar.
"Hold on; let go. This is a mistake."
"You can't both hold on and let go," said Stalker, of Indiana.
"Come out o' this," cried the mate, jerking him forward.
With a wrench the stowaway tore himself free and made a dash for the companion way. A couple of sailors instantly tripped him up.
"Let go of me; I'm a cabin passenger," cried Cupples.
"Bless me!" I cried in astonishment. "This isn't you, Cupples? Why, I acted on your own advice and that of Revised Statutes, No. whatever-they-were."
"Well, act on my advice again," cried the infuriated Cupples, "and go to—the hold."
However, he was better in humor the next day, and stood treat all round. We found, subsequently, that Cupples was a New York actor, and at the entertainment given for the benefit of the sailor's orphans, a few nights after, he recited a piece in costume that just melted the ladies. It was voted a wonderfully touching performance, and he called it "The Stowaway."
