For several years the Down-in-towners had been victorious in the annual fight; probably they being mostly the sons of sea-faring men, their _bringing-up_ had rendered them stronger and more fearless than the “land-lubbers,” as they called the boys of the west end. But as soon as George Fayerweather took the field, the face of affairs was wholly changed; the foe was routed in every engagement, and the play-ground was so quietly yielded to the Up-in-towners at length, that the possession, losing all its glory, ceased to be an object; and George prevailed on his band to cede it back to the Down-in-towners, urging that it properly belonged to them, and that it was a shame to keep them out of their right. This trait of magnanimity gained him many friends among the sons of Neptune at the east end, and finally brought about a peace between the hostile powers. Among George’s new acquaintances was one whom he liked particularly, because he was almost as bold and fearless as himself; but more especially, because he had once done him the extraordinary favor of falling through the ice as they were skating down to “Baker’s Island,” thereby affording George a glorious opportunity of showing his prowess in pulling the lad out of the water at the manifest peril of his own life. It would be difficult to say which felt the most obliged on the occasion, George or Dick Seaward; but the foundation was then laid of a strong and lasting friendship between the parties. About two months after this event Captain Seaward returned from a long voyage in the Two Pollys, and Dick lost no time in bringing about an acquaintance between his father and his friend. The latter went by special invitation one evening to eat cocoa-nuts, and see the curiosities which the captain had brought home. The old salt took a liking to George at first sight, and, in his rough way, spared no pains to entertain him. He appeared like some hero of romance to his wondering guest; and pleased with the lad’s admiration, he ransacked his memory, stored by voyages of five-and-twenty years, for marvelous adventures, unheard of perils by shipwreck, pirates, etc. His narrative, interlarded with high-sounding and mystic terms, such as “Mawlstroom,” “Tuffoon,” “Mousoon,” “Kamskeatshy,” and the “Chainymen,” produced much such an effect on his hearer’s excited imagination, as Don Quixote might have experienced at hearing the adventures of Amadis de Gaul from his own mouth.