"Next morning I called for my bill. I was astonished to find that a couple of bottles of good wine, two extra meals, and something over one day's board, figured up the round sum of ten dollars. I was three days out, so far, and my pocket-book was lessened of half the funds intended for a month's expenses! By banks of Brandywine, thinks Major, my boy, this won't do; you must economize, or you shall be short of your reckonings before you are a week out of port. That morning at the steam-boat wharf I meets a young man very genteelly dressed; he looked in deep distress about something. It was very odd, I don't know how it was, but somehow or other, he came up to me and asked if I was going up the river, and I very civilly told him I was; then, he up and tells me he was a stranger in the city, had lost all his money by gambling, was in great distress--had nothing but a valuable watch--a present from his deceased father, a Virginia planter, and a great deal more. He begged me to buy the watch, when I refused at first, but finally he so importuned me, and offered the watch at a rate so apparently below its real value that I up and gave him forty dollars for it, thinking I might in part, indemnify my previous extravagance by this little bit of a trade. It was very odd; I don't know how it was, but somehow or other, upon my arrival at Saratogy, I found that watch wasn't worth the powder that would blow it up! I was imposed upon, cheated by a scoundrel! Here I was, four days from home, and my whole month's outfit nigh about gone. In the stage that took us from the boat to the Springs, rode a very respectable youngish-looking woman, with a very cross child in her arms; we had not rode far before I found the other passengers, all gentlemen, apparently much annoyed by the child; for my part I sympathized with the poor woman, got into a conversation with her--learned she was on her way to Saratogy to see her husband, who was engaged there as a builder. Upon arriving at Saratogy, the young woman requested me to hold her child--it was fast asleep--until she stepped over to a new building to inquire about her husband. I did so; she went away, and I never saw her from that to this!" A loud and prolonged laugh from his auditors followed this _tableau_ in Uncle Joe's story. A little more rappee, and the Major proceeded: "Well, it was very odd, I don't know how it was, but somehow or other I was left with the child, and a plaguy time had I of it; the town authorities refused to take charge of it, nobody else would; so by Brandywine, there I was; the people seemed to be suspicious of me--sniggered and went on as though I knew more about the woman and her child than I let on. In short, I had to father the child, and provide for it, and I did," said the Major, quite patriotically. "Well, never mind, Uncle Joe," said Mrs. Bamberry; "that boy may pay you yet--pay you for all your trouble; he's growing nicely, and will make a fine man."