Everybody was eventually convalescent, and likely to recover from the damage which nobody had sustained; the gentlemen had repented of the prayers which they had not said, and were now swearing ferociously about their fractured pocket-companions, and their broken cigars; and the ladies were regaling each other with multitudinous accounts of miraculous escapes from the horrible accidents which might have killed everybody, but hadn't hurt anybody. Another engine was sent for, and the cars ran to the end of the railroad, seventy miles, before the women stopped talking, or the men got anything to drink. The musical trio, whose united chorus had been so suddenly interrupted, met at the bar of the nearest tavern for the first time since the run off; their greeting was peculiar, but characteristic; when they came in sight of each other, they didn't speak a word, until they solemnly joined hands and finished the "too ral li la," which they hadn't had the leisure to complete at the time of their sudden separation. Overdale, true to his ruling passion, wouldn't stop when the others did, but was going on with an extra "tooral li, looral li," when Wagstaff presented a glass of strong brandy and water at him; the plan succeeded; he stopped in the midst of a most astonishing shake on the first "looral," and merely remarking, "To be continued," he yielded, a passive captive to the fluid conqueror. Subsequent conversations disclosed their future plans, and it was discovered that they were all journeying to the same place, New York city; and that their several visits had one common object, to see the mysteries of the town. An agreement, which I overheard, was quickly made, that they should remain together, and pursue, in company, their investigations. They proceeded harmoniously on their journey, singing "Vilikins" between meals every day; and when Overdale couldn't stop in the chorus at the the proper time, Wagstaff corked him up with a corn-cob, which he carried in his pocket for that purpose. It so happened that I continued on the same trains of cars with this interesting trio of eccentricities, until we took the steamboat at the Dutch village, where the State Legislature meets. After the last verse of their customary evening hymn had been sung, with a strong chorus, as they were about to shelve themselves in their state-rooms for the night, I heard Overdale remark to his companions: "When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or--well, no matter where. Dennis, you see this black eye; I have to make this particular request, that if this steamboat blows up in the night, and you take a fancy to black anybody's eye, you'll pick out somebody's else." "I didn't black your eye; what do you mean?"