I should probably have found little sympathy among the sailors had I not met among them an old acquaintance. A young man named Giddings, on hearing my name mentioned, regarded me with a degree of interest that surprised me. After staring at me a few minutes, he inquired if I had not once lived in Rockingham county, New Hampshire. On my replying in the affirmative, he introduced himself as an old schoolmate, a native of Exeter, from which, having chosen a sailor's life, he had been absent for years. I rejoiced at finding a friend, and soon realized the truth of the good old proverb, "a friend in need is a friend indeed." Through his influence and representation the crew were disposed to look upon me in a favorable light. He gave me the privilege of using his berth and his blankets during my watch below; he loaned me a monkey jacket in stormy weather, and shared with me his "small stores," of which he had a good supply. More than all this, he encouraged me to keep a stout heart and "stiff upper lip," assuring me that all would come right in the end. Had it not been for that kind-hearted young man, my condition on board the ship must have been wretched. I have often witnessed the disgraceful fact, that when a man is DOWN every one seems determined TO KEEP HIM DOWN! If a poor fellow received a kick from fortune, every man he meets with will give him another kick for that very reason! Captain Swain never deigned to notice me in any way, and the chief mate followed his example so far as was practicable. The second mate's name was Cathcart. He was man of inferior capacity, ignorant, and coarse. As I was looked upon as a sort of "black sheep" in the flock, and was in the second mate's watch, that officer imagined he could, with impunity, make me a target for his vulgar jokes, and practised on me a line of conduct which he dared not practice on others. A day or two after we left Liverpool, he took occasion, when several of the crew were standing by, to make my rather quaint NAME the subject of some offensive remarks. My indignation was roused at such ungentlemanly conduct, and I retorted with a degree of bitterness as well as imprudence that surprised myself as well as others. "My name?" said I; "you object to MY name! Look at home! My name is a quiet name, a sensible name, surrounded with pleasant associations, and easily spoken, which is more than can be said of yours. Ca-a-th-ca-r-r-t! There is neither sense, meaning, nor beauty in that name. Why," continued I, making strange grimaces, "one cannot speak it without twisting the mouth into kinks and cuckold's necks without number. Ca-a-th-c-a-a-rt! I would sooner be called Tantarabogus." This turned the laugh against him. He made no reply, but no longer annoyed me with his coarse jokes, and the respectable epithet of "Tantarabogus" stuck to him until our arrival in New York.