At length, about fifteen minutes after the party had come up from luncheon, and were all assembled around the paddle-box settee, a gentleman came up one of stairways with a slip of paper in his hands, and, advancing to the group, he attempted to still the noise they were making, by saying,-- "Order, gentlemen, order! I've got the bulletin." Every body's attention was arrested by these words, and all began to call out "Order!" and "Silence!" until at length something like quiet was restored. The persons assembled were all very much interested in learning the result; for, in addition to the prize of the lottery, there were a great many bets, some of them quite large, pending, all of which were to be decided by the bulletin. When, at length, the gentleman found that he could be heard, he began to read in a very deliberate voice,-- "Latitude forty-eight, thirty-one." "Never mind the latitude," exclaimed the company. "The _distance_. Let's have the _distance_." "Longitude," continued the reader, "ten, fourteen." "Nonsense!" said the company. "What's the distance?" "Distance," continued the reader, in the same tone, "two hundred and _sixty-six_." "Sixty-six!" they all exclaimed together; and great inquiries were immediately made for the missing ticket. But nobody knew any thing about it. At last, Mr. Chauncy's companion, Charles, who happened to be there, said,-- "Why, Chauncy had 66, I believe." Then calling out aloud to Mr. Chauncy, who had come up on the deck after luncheon, and was now sitting on one of the settees that stood around the skylight, he added,-- "Chauncy! here! come here! Where is your ticket? You have got the prize." "No," said Mr. Chauncy, in a careless tone, without, however, moving from his seat. "I have not any ticket." Two or three of the gentlemen, then, headed by Charles, went to the place where Mr. Chauncy was sitting, to question him more particularly. "Where's your ticket?" said Charles. "I gave it to one of the deck passengers," said Mr. Chauncy. "You did!" said Charles. "Well, it has drawn the prize. What was the number of it?" "Ninety-nine, I believe," said Mr. Chauncy. "Ninety-nine!" repeated Charles, contemptuously. "Nonsense! There was no ninety-nine. It was sixty-six." Then, shouting with laughter, he said, "O, dear me! that's so exactly like Chauncy. He gives half a sovereign for a ticket, then reads it upside down, and gives it away to an Irishwoman. O Gemini!" So saying, Charles, and those with him, went away, laughing vociferously at Chauncy's expense.