The next day, when I returned home after my daily jaunt around the wharves in search of employment, Hansen met me with a smile, and introduced me to Stephen Schmidt, a thickset Dutchman, with little gray eyes, and capacious cheeks, of a color which proved he was a dear lover of schnapps. Schmidt claimed to be a native of Hudson; his ancestors were Dutch, and Dutch was the sole language of his early days. He had been several years employed in the North River sloops, but for the last six months had been in a coaster. Wearied of this kind of life and afraid of impressment, as his English pronunciation was strongly tinctured with the gutturals of a genuine Knickerbocker, and British ships-of-war swarmed along our coast, he had made up his mind to return to his home on the banks of the Hudson, and try his hand at cultivating cabbages and manufacturing SAUER KRAUT! A man was wanted in his place on board the coasting vessel and Hansen had persuaded Schmidt to use his influence with the captain to procure me the enviable situation. I cared not a rush what kind of vessel this coaster was, whether old or new, bound on a cruise to New Orleans or Baffin's Bay; nor did I care whether the captain was a gentleman or a clown; a worthy man or an ignorant bully. I was anxious to obtain the vacant situation, and feared that the captain, following the fashion of the Long Island farmers, would not like the cut of my jib. I learned, however, that the schooner was a comfortable vessel, about a hundred tons burden, called the Mary, belonging to Newbern in North Carolina. The name of the captain was Thompson. The schooner was taking in cargo for Newbern, and would soon be ready for sea. Towards evening I accompanied Schmidt to the wharf where the Mary lay, and went on board, my bosom agitated with hopes and fears. The captain was on deck, a sturdy, rough-looking man. Schmidt went boldly up to him. "Captain Thompson," said he, "this is the man I spoke to you about this morning to take my place." "This the man?" said the captain, abruptly. "Why, this is a boy! He's lame, too, and looks sickly. He will never do for me!" It was time for me to speak; and I made a bold effort to overcome my diffidence. "Sir," said I, "a few months ago I had the misfortune to break my leg in Liverpool, and was sent home by the American consul. The limb is nearly well; but I don't feel able to ship in a square-rigged vessel. But, sir, I am in good health; I want employment; I can do as good a day's work as any man on board your schooner. You will find me active, industrious, and faithful. You may rely on it, sir, you will never have cause to repent giving me the berth." Captain Thompson eyed me sharply a few moments without saying a word. After he had completed the examination of my person, he mildly inquired, "How much wages do you expect?"