In this state of things, I heard a noise, and went on deck to inquire what was the matter. My old ship, the Franklin, was shifting her berth, and her jib-boom had come foul of our taffrail. After some hailing, I got on the taffrail to shove our neighbour off, when, by some carelessness of my own, I fell head-foremost, hitting the gunwale of the boat, which was hanging, about half way up to the davits, into the water. The tide set me away, and carried me between the wharf and the ship astern of us, which happened to be the William Thompson, Captain Thompson, owner Thompson, mate Thompson, and all Thompson, as Mathews used to have it. Captain Thompson was reading near the cabin windows, and he luckily heard me groan. Giving the alarm, a boat was got round, and I taken in. As the night was dark, and I lost all consciousness after the fall, I consider this escape as standing second only to that from the shark in the West Indies, and old Trant's gun, the night the Scourge went down. I did not recover my recollection for several hours. This was not the effect of liquor, but of the fall, as I remember everything distinctly that occurred before I went from the taffrail. Still I confess that liquor did all the mischief, as I had drunk just enough to make me careless. In the morning, I found myself disabled in the left arm, and I went to a doctor. This gentleman said he never told a fellow what ailed him until he got his whack. I gave him a dollar, and he then let me into the secret. My collar-bone was broken. "And, now," says he, "for another dollar I'll patch you up." I turned out the other Spaniard, when he was as good as his word. Going in the ship, however, was out of the question, and I was obliged to get a young man to go on board the Camillus in my place; thus losing the voyage and my berth. I was now ashore, with two or three months of drift before me. Since the time I joined the Washington, I had been going regularly ahead, and I do think had I been able to stick by the Camillus, I might have brought up a master. I had laid up money, and being employed while in port, I was gradually losing my taste for sailor amusements, and getting more respect for myself. That fall from the Jaffrail was a sad drawback for me, and I never recovered the lee-way it brought about.