One evening in New Diep, old Harry went into the between decks on some duty, and as it was rather dark there he fell through the hatchway into the hold and broke his right arm. Captain Streeter was too economical to employ a doctor, and too strict a disciplinarian to allow the sailor to go on shore to see one; he also believed that he knew more than all the medical fraternity put together. He therefore set the bone himself, but did it so badly that the arm was nearly useless after the bones had knit. Harry was very downhearted about it, for now he could no longer ship as an able seaman and, as usual, when he was discharged at Gothenburg he sought relief from his sorrows in drink. In a few days he was picked up in the gutter, one cold morning, penniless and almost naked. The United States Consul kindly gave him some clothes, and wished him to accept a very serviceable coat which had belonged to his coachman. But the sailor said: "Old Harry is an old man-o'-wars-man and he can't wear a coachman's coat. Cut those big buttons off and I'll take it." In his buttonless coat he was put on board the steamer for England and disappeared. One Sunday I went up to Gothenburg, in one of the little steam launches that ply up and down the river. In the evening after my return I told the mate of my visit; and after hearing my description of the city, he said: "I wish you'd been aboard this afternoon when Capt. Mann of the brig "Hong Kong" was down in the cabin, visiting the old man. They talked so loud I couldn't help hearing all they said, though I didn't listen. You know you told me Capt. Streeter never commanded a vessel before he had this one; but if you had heard his yarns, you'd have learned that he's had charge of a whole fleet of ships, and he had such a great reputation that the Emperor of Russia wanted him to command one of his "cravats," as he called it, but I suppose he meant corvettes. He told the Emperor that if he took charge of her, the first thing he'd do would be to run her into action and get the crew killed off, in order to make room for true-born Americans--the only men who could get two ideas in their heads without bursting. The Emperor didn't like this plan of disposing of his subjects very well, but he knew that Capt. Streeter was such a smart man that he still urged him to accept, until the affair ended by the captain telling him he wouldn't take one of his ships if he'd give her to him.