stones seemed to tell him to go home — to sea again. I never heard of him again.
A few days afterwards I shipped in the bark General Scott, bound to New York, and thence to Appalachicola. I made one trip in this bark, and several in the brig Thomas Jefferson to Mobile and New Orleans, and also two in an old down-east molasses drogher. Nothing of interest occurred on either of these short voyages, and in about two years I found myself at home again in
"Boston, O Boston, that fair spot of earth,
Where heaven gave glorious freedom her birth."
I soon obtained employment at painting, and commenced work. For amusement I occasionally spent an evening at the old National Theater. One evening I was sitting in the pit with a number of boys who were making considerable disturbance. "Old Dexter," the constable, had spoken to us several times, and requested us to be quiet. Finding his mandate unheeded, he leaned over, seized me by the collar, and lifted me out of my seat into the aisle. He was a large and powerful man, while I was small and wiry. We had reached the inside door of the pit, when the officer seeing that a fight was in progress in the entry left me to stop the fight. I improved the opportunity and skedaddled for home. The next day, hearing that officer Dexter was in pursuit of me, I remained in the house. Fortunately, in the evening I heard that a New York packet was short-handed. I shipped on her at once, and received four dollars for the run. We reached New York in three days. As we made fast to the wharf we found
