The astonishment of Captain Crayme was marked enough to be alarming at first; then the ludicrous feature of Fred’s request struck him so forcibly that he burst into a laugh before whose greatness Fred trembled and shrank. “Well, by thunder!” exclaimed the captain, when he recovered his breath; “if that isn’t the best thing I ever heard yet! The idea of a steamboat captain swearing off his whiskey! Say, Fred, don’t you want me to join the church? I forgot that you’d married a preacher’s daughter, or I wouldn’t have been so puzzled over your white face to-day. Sam Crayme brought down to cold water! Wouldn’t the boys along the river get up a sweet lot of names for me--the ‘Cold-water Captain,’ ‘Psalm-singing Sammy’! and then, when an editor or any other visitor came aboard, _wouldn’t_ I look the thing, hauling out glasses and a pitcher of water! Say, Fred, does your wife let you drink tea and coffee?” “Sam!” exclaimed Fred, springing to his feet, “if you don’t stop slanting at my wife, I’ll knock you down.” “Good!” said the captain, without exhibiting any signs of trepidation. “_Now_ you talk like yourself again. I beg your pardon, old fellow; you know I was only joking, but it _is_ too funny. You’ll have to take a trip or two with me again, though, and be reformed.” “Not any,” said Fred, resuming his chair; “take your wife along, and reform yourself.” “Look here, now, young man,” said the captain, “_you’re_ cracking on too much steam. Honestly, Fred, I’ve kept a sharp eye on you for two or three months, and I am right glad you can let whiskey alone. I’ve seen times when I wished I were in your boots; but steamboats can’t be run without liquor, however it may be with woolen mills.” “That’s all nonsense,” said Fred. “You get trade because you run your boat on time, charge fair prices, and deliver your freight in good order. Who gives you business because you drink and treat?” The captain, being unable to recall any shipper of the class alluded to by Fred, changed his course. “’Tisn’t so much that,” said he; “it’s a question of reputation. How would I feel to go ashore at Pittsburg or Louisville or Cincinnati, and refuse to drink with anybody? Why, ’twould ruin me. It’s different with you who don’t have to meet anybody but religious old farmers. Besides, you’ve just been married.” “And you’ve been married for five years,” said Fred, with a sudden sense of help at hand. “How do you suppose _your_ wife feels?” Captain Crayme’s jollity subsided a little, but with only a little hesitation he replied, “Oh! she’s used to it; she doesn’t mind it.” “You’re the only person in town that thinks so, Sam,” said Fred. Captain Crayme got up and paced his little state-room two or three times, with a face full of uncertainty. At last he replied,