"We often used to talk about you, and were right sorry to hear you were killed," observed the lady. "Thankee, mam, for your kind feelings--but really I didn't deserve them, as I have never written to you, although I promised to do so." "Your old sweetheart is married! Do you know that?" "Yes, mam, I called to see her this morning, and, would you believe it? she said I wasn't myself, and that Scherry Thompson (as if I were named arter sherry wine) were a deal handsomer man than ever I had been--ha! ha! ha!" "That was scarcely polite of her, Mr. Thompson." "Well, she didn't know me, for she spoke very kindly about me, evidently thinking of me as dead." Thompson amused his friends by relating some of his adventures, and they enjoyed his company immensely, when about ten o'clock a servant brought in a card, and saying it was for the sailor gentleman, and a gentleman was waiting for an answer, tittered and retired from the room. Jerry, who had just commenced a song, apologized to his friends, and perused the card, which ran thus:-- CAPTAIN MAX SCHWARTZ, LATE HANS JACOB PFERDSCREPTERN, SHIP CHANDLER, Licensed to sell Wine and Spirits wholesale and retail. N. B. M. S. boards all the shipping upon their entrance into the harbour. Having read the foregoing, Thompson glanced at his friends, who were laughing most immoderately, and observed, "What does it mean?" "Why, it's a visit from Max Schwartz," replied the lady, somewhat recovering from her merriment. "Shall I ask him in?" "Certainly, certainly. He is an honest sort of man, and very German." Jerry walked into the hall, where he encountered the gigantic form of Captain Schwartz, who, looking at him in an absent manner, mildly demanded, "Is you Scherry Thompson?" "Yaw, yaw, mine-ear," bawled the acting boatswain, as if hailing some one in the attic. "What you want, mine-ear? Won't you come in?" Captain Schwartz fumbled in his coat pocket, and bringing out another card, gravely handed it to him, and exclaimed, "I schust vants zadisfaction." "Satisfaction?" "Yaw; zadisfaction! I sbeaks blain, doesn't I?" At this juncture the host came forward and invited the captain to go into the parlour, and take a drink, but the gigantic Schwartz would not move, declaring he wanted satisfaction, and not schnapps. "Well, what sort of satisfaction do you require, and what do you want it for?" "I vant zadisfaction for you to go und make love to mine vrow. Yah, dat ish vot I vonts zadisfaction for," observed the burly Teuton.