“Mamma Flora, are you not charmed with the splendid accommodations of your fancy ship?” whispered the mischievous Jim. “There is not room for a flea to hop, without giving him the cramp in his legs.” “It is better than the _Flora_; so hold your tongue, you wicked imp.” But Lyndsay thought otherwise. The _Flora_ was larger, and was to sail a fortnight earlier. He demurred—his wife coaxed and entreated; but he only went so far as to tell the captain to keep the berths unoccupied until the following day, and he would inform him of his final determination. Just as they were rising to take leave, a tall, lanky man, stuck his long scraggy neck in at the cabin-door, and, in the broadest Scotch vernacular, exclaimed,— “To what port are ye bound, man?” “Quebec and Montreal.” “Wull you tak’ a cabin-passenger on reasonable terms?” “The fare is fixed by the owner of the vessel, P. Gregg, Bank-street, Leith. You had better apply to him.” “Weel, I dinna’ think I’ll jest go noo. I want to see the Canada lochs. Ane o’ these days I’ll tak’ passage wi’ you onyhow.” “Perhaps a glass of brandy and water would serve your purpose at this time,” said the captain, with a knowing smile. “I’ve noo objections, captain,” said the long-visaged traveller to the lochs o’ Canada. “That’s one way of getting a glass of brandy for nothing,” said the captain, as he accompanied the Lyndsays to the deck. “That fellow has as much notion of going to Canada, as I have of taking a voyage to the moon. But he knows that I will give him the brandy to get rid of him.” “What do you think of the _Anne_ and her captain, John?” said Flora, as she took the proffered arm of her husband. “He is a rough sailor, but looks like an honest man. And the ship, though small, is clean, and offers better accommodations than the _Flora_, where we should have to share a small cabin with fourteen passengers.” “My dear wife, it may all be true what you say; but I have made up my mind to go in the _Flora_. She sails so much earlier, that it will be a great saving of time and expense.” Flora’s countenance fell; but she only muttered to herself,— “Oh, I have such a horror of going in that ship!” At the turning of the street they met Mr. Peterson, the owner of the _Flora_, to whom Lyndsay had spoken about taking a passage in her the day before. “Well, Mr. Lyndsay,” said he, shaking hands in a friendly manner with him; “have you concluded to take passage in my vessel?” “Not quite,” returned Lyndsay, laughing. “My wife has such an unconquerable aversion to going with your captain and his sons, on account of the reprobate language they used the other day in her hearing, that she has actually found up another vessel in which she wishes me to sail.”