THE captain and he of the tall figure had sufficiently exchanged compliments, when good Dame Snider came on deck, and invited the strangers into the cabin to partake of the refreshments she had there prepared. But Flora, who was much diverted by the good woman's earnestness, spoke up and declared the hospitalities of the occasion must be left to her, for she had charge of the larder; and so well stocked was it, that they could feed six aldermen for a week without fear of stint. Nat Bradshaw, too, raised the cigar exquisitely from his lips, and in his finicking manner said, the "Saucy Kate" was famous for the quality of her stores, nor ever permitted a stranger to do the hospitalities. In truth, it must be confessed that Nat had what is called a streak of generosity mixed with all his weaknesses. "No, mother, (you won't think me bold for calling you mother?) leave the refreshments to me, and I am satisfied," interposed Flora, taking the honest hearted woman cordially by the hand. Then she doffed the little hat, that rolled up so pertly at the sides, and had given her such a saucy air; and as she did so, there fell upon her shoulders such a profusion of golden curls as would have crazed the heart of a Frenchman. The exquisiteness of her beauty was now fully disclosed. Her complexion resembled alabaster, and in addition to a face so oval that a sculptor could not have improved it, her great blue eyes, which, as I have said before, sparkled like pure crystals, were set off with finely curved arches, giving perfection to a brow poets call Grecian, and over which two broad wavy plaits of golden hair floated, as it were. Her nose, too, was of that high born order we recognize in the delicate but prominent lines, and, together with her mouth and chin, were such that the most fastidious could not have detected an imperfection. And as the moonbeams played upon her features, lighting them up as it were, she seemed a creature more of heaven than earth. "Flora! Flora! my dear cousin," spoke he of the tall figure, seeing her thus doff her hat, "you must not, for I am anxious lest you catch cold." "Cold?" she interrupted with a coquettish smile; "not I, indeed. The colds have a liking for Nat Bradshaw. They can get through him with so little difficulty, that they never take to me while he's by." "Now, ah! 'pon my soul, that's clever. Say how I owe you one." Thus Nat replied, stopping in a desperate effort to light a short cigar without damaging the down he persisted in calling his mustache. He also raised his hat, and throwing his body into the shape of a triangle, made one of these bows which are peculiar to members of the Union Club.