The sailors came on board, or were brought on board by their landlords, after we had hauled from the wharf. Some of them were sober and well behaved, others were stupid or crazy from intoxication. It required energy and decision to establish order and institute strict rules of discipline among such a miscellaneous collection of web-footed gentry. But Mr. Stetson, assisted by Mr. Bachelder, the second mate, was equal to the task. Indeed he was in his element while directing the labors of the men, blackguarding this one for his stupidity, anathematizing that one for his indolence, and shaking his fist at another, and menacing him with rough treatment for his short answers and sulky looks. One of the seamen who had been brought on board nearly dead drunk, showed his figure-head above the forescuttle on the following morning. His eyes, preternaturally brilliant, were bloodshot, his cheeks were pale and haggard, his long black hair was matted, and he seemed a personification of desperation and despondency. Stetson caught a glimpse of his features; even his fossilized heart was touched with his appearance and he drove him below. "Down with you!" said he, shaking his brawny fist in the drunken man's face, "don't let me see your ugly phiz again for the next twenty-four hours. The sight of it is enough to frighten a land-lubber into hysterics, and conjure up a hurricane in the harbor before we can let go the sheet anchor. Down with you; vanish! Tumble into your berth! Take another long and strong nap, and then turn out a fresh man, and show yourself a sailor; or you'll rue the day when you first tasted salt water!" The rueful visage disappeared, unable to withstand such a broadside, and its owner subsequently proved to be a first-rate seaman, and was an especial favorite with Stetson. A circumstance occurred while the ship was in the stream, where she lay at anchor two or three days, which will convey a correct ides of the character of the mate. One afternoon, while all hands were busily employed in heaving in the slack of the cable, a boat, pulled by two stout, able-bodied men, came alongside. One of the men came on board, and addressing the mate, said he had a letter which he wished to send to Liverpool. The mate looked hard at the man, and replied in a gruff and surly tone, "We can't receive any letters here. The letter bag is at Ropes and Pickman's counting room, and you must leave your letter there if you want it to go to Liverpool in this ship." "Never mind," exclaimed the stranger, "I am acquainted with one of the crew, and I will hand it to him." Regardless of Stetson's threats of vengeance provided he gave the letter into the hands of any one on board, the man stepped forward to the windlass, and handed the missive to one of the sailors.