What was I to find in the cabins, and the offices, and the pantries, and the caboose-house? The caboose-house reminded me that I was getting hungry, and that it was near dinner-time. I had expected to make my meal of dry crackers and cold bear-meat; but it occurred to me, that, on such an occasion as the present, a luxurious repast would be more appropriate, as well as more agreeable, and that very possibly I might find in the caboose-house the materials for gratifying my appetite. I did not as yet feel quite prepared to visit the cabins at the stern, for I knew that I must become very much excited at what would be found there, and a good dinner would serve to strengthen my nerves, and set me up. I went, therefore, at once to the caboose, and slid back the door, which required considerable effort; and, sure enough, there was every thing at hand that I expected, and a great deal more. The accident which lifted the deck from the hull of the ship must have happened about the middle of the forenoon; for there was the fire all ready to be lighted in the cooking-stove,--shavings, kindlings, and coal in place; and there lay the cooking utensils quite convenient. This was not all; the materials for the dinner had been brought up,--a great deal more than I could consume in a week. Immediately I took a match from my pocket,--there was a box of matches hanging on the wall, but I did not feel sure that they would be in working order,--and lighted the fire. The next thing that I did was to go and select a lump of clean, clear ice, to be melted in the kettle, that I might be ready to wash up my dishes properly after dinner. I tell you that I gave a big shout when I saw the smoke curling out of the funnel. I now proceeded, very deliberately, to select from the cans and bottles and jars, that were piled up in the corner, the various items of which I would make my dinner. The first thing that I settled upon was a dish of "_Parker's ox-tail soup_," which I remembered to have eaten some time ago at the house of a benevolent gentleman in Washington Street, when he gave the newsboys a lunch. My second course should consist of a potted partridge, with tomato sauce, desiccated turnips (I didn't know what _desiccated_ meant, but I took it for granted that it was all right), and one or two of Lewis's pickles. I would then close with part of a jar of preserved peaches. I did not need to do much cooking in getting up this dinner; but I had hot soup, hot tomatoes, and warm turnips, which got a little smoked, and didn't taste very good,--perhaps, however, that was because it was desiccated. I enjoyed the dinner tremendously; and after it was over, and my dishes were all washed and put away, my eye lighted upon a box, half full of cigars, on the shelf. My first thought was, "Now I will have a cigar, as the gentlemen do that you see at the steps of the Tremont House in the afternoon, and that will make it seem