HE boarded the boat at a landing about a hundred miles above Vicksburg, having two dilapidated but bulky-looking satchels as luggage. He said he was bound to “Orleans,” and when the clerk told him what the fare would be he uttered a long whistle of amazement, and inquired— “Isn’t that pooty steep?” “Regular figure, sir,” replied the clerk. “Seems like a big price for just riding on a boat,” continued the stranger. “Come, I’m in a hurry,” said the clerk. “That’s the lowest figure, eh?” inquired the stranger. “Yes—that’s the regular fare.” “No discount to a regular traveller?” “We make no discount from that figure.” “Ye wouldn’t take half of it in trade?” “I want your fare at once, or we will have to land you!” “Don’t want a nice rat-trap, do ye, stranger?” inquired the passenger. “One which sets herself, works on scientific principles, allus ready, painted a nice green, wanted by every family, warranted to knock the socks off’n any other trap ever invented by mortal man?” “No, sir; I want the money!” replied the clerk in emphatic tones. “Oh, wall, I’ll pay; of course I will,” said the rat-trap man; “but that’s an awful figger for a ride to Orleans, and cash is cash these days.” He counted out the fare in ragged shin-plasters, wound a shoe-string around his wallet and replaced it, and then unlocked one of the satchels and took out a wire rat-trap. Proceeding to the cabin, he looked the ground over, and then waltzing up to a young lady who sat on a sofa reading, he began— “I take great pleasure in presenting to your attention the Eureky rat-trap, the best trap ever invented. It sets——” “Sir!” she exclaimed, rising to her feet. “Name’s Harrington Baker,” he went on, turning the trap around on his outstretched hand, “and I guarantee this trap to do more square killing among rats than——” She gave him a look of scorn and contempt, and swept grandly away; and without being the least put out he walked over to a bald-headed man who had tilted his chair back and fallen asleep. “Fellow-mortal, awakest and gaze upon the Eureky rat-trap,” said the stranger, as he laid his hand on the shiny pate of the sleeper. “Wh—who—what!” exclaimed the Bald-head, opening his eyes and flinging his arms around. “I take this opportunity to call your attention to my Eureky rat-trap,” continued the new passenger; “the noblest Roman of them all. Try one, and you will use no other. It is constructed on——” “Who in thunder do you take me for?” exclaimed the bald-headed man at this point. “What in blazes do I want of your rat-trap?” “To ketch rats!” humbly replied the stranger; “to clear yer premises of one of the most obnoxious pests known to man. I believe I am safe in saying that this ’ere——” “Go away, sir—go away; or I’ll knock your blamed head off!” roared the Bald-head. “When I want a rat-trap I shan’t patronise travelling vagabonds! Your audacity in daring to put your hand on my head and wake me up deserves a caning!”