They finally reached the foot of the stairs, which led to the wharf. The young officer espied me and standing up in the boat shading his eyes with his hand seemed carefully contemplating me. I wondered if it could be possible that he had defined my wish and would have me arrested when he landed; perhaps it was the cigar that attracted his attention. It was against orders to smoke on the wharf, and such a big cigar in a boy's mouth looked very much out of place, but I wasn't going to give it up, and puffed more vigorously than ever. Just then the "cutter" touched the stairs that led up to the wharf with a bump, and the young officer with his handsome uniform turned a back-summersault overboard. It tickled me to death; I sat down and laughed to see him floundering to reach the stairs. I clapped my hands and cried, "Good, good!" He finally reached the stairs, clambered up onto them, but they being very slippery from the slime left by the ebbing tide, he lost his footing, his heels went into the air, and down again headfirst he went into the ocean. I think he went clear to the bottom, for when he came up he was covered over with sea grass and mud. I laughed harder than before; everybody laughed, even the sailors, they couldn't help it, and when they fished him out he was a sight! The starch was out of his clothes, but not his pomposity. He roundly blamed the poor sailors. I sang out: "It wasn't their fault; what are you blaming them for?" He looked at me and shook his fist. "Well, it wasn't!" and I thought to myself if I were they I would push him in again. I then made up my mind I had better run, but I was so convulsed with laughter that I couldn't move. Hurriedly but cautiously climbing the slippery stairs, he made his way straight for me. I was still laughing, so hearty that my eyes were dimmed with tears! but I still puffed away at the big cigar. He looked at me for a moment, then hitting the cigar knocked it overboard, at the same time exclaiming, "You're too young to smoke. What you laughing at? Why don't you salute me? Discipline! I'll teach you discipline, confound you," at the same time boxing my ears. "You 'gorramed' little cuss, why don't you salute me?" At the word "Gorrame" I recovered myself, looked up and recognized my brother; he had been promoted since I saw him, had raised a full beard and was in command of a regiment on his way to New Orleans and had run into Fortress Monroe for orders and hoping to find me. I was more than pleased to see him, but wouldn't salute him until he had soundly cuffed my ears and threatened to throw me into the water. When he was ready to depart he gave me a cigar and told me I could smoke it after he had gone, but I didn't; just as he was getting into the "cutter," I gave it to the Boatswain. I don't know, but I believe that cigar was loaded.