Emerson, a porter, was conducting Miss Wise, from the 'Magna Charter,' over a plank, when the plank slipped, and both were precipitated into the water. The wind was blowing very strong, and the river was extremely rough at the time. I had just gone into the cabin to change my clothes, when, hearing such a screaming as I had never before heard, I sprang upon the paddle-box, and saw Emerson, but knew nothing of the woman who had also fallen into the water, and whose mother was uttering the most heart-rending shrieks. I leaped from the paddle-box to save the man, when, to my surprise, I found I had thrown my legs right _across the woman's shoulders_! Of course my _first object_ now, was to save _her_. I hastily dragged her to the side of the packet, and having put her hand round a piece of iron, I said to her, 'Now hold fast there, for you are safe.' I then went to a distance in search of Emerson, and having made a rope fast round him, I was able to hold him up with ease. But the shouting was as great as ever, and I thought,--surely there is some one else overboard! The fact was, the people could not see the woman holding by the iron, and in my efforts to save the man, they thought I had forgotten her; hence their wild shouts. The engineer came to the vessel's side and shouted, 'There is the woman yet,' when I replied, 'She's all right, come down to the paddle and take hold of her.' He came and took her out, when she had a basket on her arm and a pair of pattens in her hand, just as when she dropped into the water. She suddenly disappeared from the crowd, and I heard no more of her for seven years. Mr. G. Lee, editor of the 'Rockingham, advertised the case in his paper for several weeks, asking the woman, from sheer gratitude, to let him know her name; but there was no response. When I was master of the 'Ann Scarborough,' sailing between Barton and Hessle, I had to fetch (one Sunday afternoon) a gentleman's carriage from Barton to Hessle. We had scarcely started, when a young woman, who was a passenger, said to me, 'You don't know me, Sir, but I know you.' 'And for what do you know me, something good or bad?' 'O good, Sir; don't you remember jumping overboard and saving my life, at Hull? I shall never forget you, and I have come here on purpose to thank you.' I then told her how we had advertised for her name, but could never hear a word of her, when she said, 'My mother and I were strangers in Hull, and as soon as I had got some dry clothes on, we had to start by coach, for Bridlington.' This woman's brother was gardener for Mr. Graborn, solicitor, Barton, and we afterwards became very intimate friends. I have not heard from Ann Wise for many years, but if she is yet living in any part of England, it would gladden my heart to have one more acknowledgment from her. In relating this case at Temperance meetings, I have sometimes created a little mirth, by remarking, 'I went in search of a man, and lo! and