run of 63 days from New York to Valparaiso to her credit. Captain Hamilton was not only an accomplished mariner, but a most delightful companion, and he had many friends in San Francisco, some of whom gave a dinner at the Niantic Hotel in honor of his arrival on this occasion. When the proper moment came, one of the party proposed the health of Captain Hamilton, and this is the way he did it:
"Gentlemen! I give you the shipper-clips—the clippy—sh—the, gentlemen, I give you the—the slipper." Here he paused, steadied himself by the table edge, bowed with great dignity, and began again very slowly: "Gentlemen!—I—give—you— the—ship—E—clipse, and her gallant cap'n Hamilton," and then with an at-peace-with-all-the-world grin, this disciple of Silenus subsided.
The Niantic had a curious history, even for a San Francisco hotel. This refuge for the traveller, or rather a portion of it, had originally been the British ship Niantic which arrived at Valparaiso from Liverpool just as the California gold fever was at its height. She was bought by a Chilean merchant and started for Panama, where she loaded a cargo of tropical fruits and two hundred and forty-eight passengers, and arrived at San Francisco, July 5, 1849. Most of the fruit had either been devoured by the passengers or become so decayed that it was thrown overboard, and as soon as the anchor was down, the captain and all hands cleared out for the mines, leaving the ship to take care of herself.
After some months of neglect, she was bought
