'Now, in my way of thinking,' said the deacon--'that young thing of sixteen is the most delicious little witch of the entire lot;--what a fair skin--what elastic limbs--what wantonness in every look and movement! There's a youthfulness and freshness about her, which render her doubly attractive.' 'Ah, they are all going to retire, and we shall lose our sport.--By the way, deacon, what kind of a set are they that I'm going to preach to, in Boston?' asked the Rev. John Marrowfat--for it was that noted hero of pulpit oratory, amours and matrimony! 'Oh, they're a set of soft-pated fools,' replied deacon Small, 'preach hell-fire and brimstone to 'em, they'll swallow everything you say, and give you a devilish good salary into the bargain.' A young man, small and thin, and well dressed, now approached, and grasped the deacon by the hand. 'Why, this is an unexpected pleasure,' said the young man--'who would have thought of seeing you here?' 'I am happy to meet you, brother,' said the deacon--'brother Marrowfat, allow me to introduce you to Samuel Cough, a distinguished advocate of temperance.' 'What are you going to do in Boston, Sam?' asked deacon Small. 'Oh, going to astonish the natives a little, that's all,' replied Mr. Cough. 'That was a bad scrape I got into, in Albany; I got infernally drunk, and slept in a brothel, which was all very well, you know, and nothing unusual--but people _found it out_! Well, I got up a cock-and-bull story about drinking drugged soda, and some people believe it and some don't. Now, when I get _corned_, I keep out of sight.--Ah, temperance spouting is a great business! But come, gentlemen--it won't do for us to be seen drinking at the bar; I've got a bottle of fourth-proof brandy in my pocket; let's take a swig all around.' And producing the article in question, Mr. Cough took a very copious swig, and passed the bottle to the others, who followed his example. We shall now leave this worthy trio, with the remark that they all got very comfortably drunk previous to retiring for the night. Mr. Cough turned into his berth with his boots on and a cigar in his mouth; Mr. Marrowfat sung obscene songs, and fell over a chair; and deacon Small rushed into the gentleman's cabin, and offered to fight any individual present, for a trifling wager. He was finally carried to bed in the custody of the bootblack. Among the passengers was a very handsome lad, twelve or fourteen years of age, whose prepossessing appearance seemed to attract the attention of a tall gentleman, of distinguished bearing, enveloped in a cloak.--He wore a heavy moustache, and his complexion was very dark. He paid the most incessant attention to the boy, making him liberal presents of cake and fruit, and finally gave him a beautiful gold ring, from his own finger.