“On board the Phœbe there were several old salts, and many were the tales they told of the ghosts of murdered sailors, appearing in the midst of dreadful storms, to encourage foremast Jacks, and frighten the souls of guilty mates and captains; and of course all this tended to deepen the vein of superstition and mysticism running through me. Often have I been apprized of the presence and power of the dead or of those who never die, and, when tempted to share the dangerous pleasures of my older comrades, been mysteriously saved. “Sailors, like everybody else, are fond of power, and delight in lording it over those whom chance or accident places in their power; and on every vessel there is one man who is sure to be the butt and target for petty tyranny and abuse. On board the Phœbe this fell to my lot; and not being able to forcibly resist, I took care to hide in my chest about a gallon of rum, into which about half an ounce of croton oil, from the medicine chest had previously been poured. I labelled the jug ‘Poison.’ Croton oil is the most infamously active purgative known. The sailors found the jug, read the label--didn’t believe it--drank the liquor, and were actively engaged for several hours thereafter, as a consequence. A more earnest, swift-moving set of men were never seen. They had no relish for supper that night. They beat me unmercifully, but I was revenged. Still they abused me, until one day a sailor tweaked my nose in the galley, and for his pains received half a gallon of hot lard in the waist-band, which troubled him wonderfully.... At last I meditated suicide as a relief, and, in a paroxysm of rage and despair, such as boys only are subject to, actually ran aft to accomplish it by leaping over the taffrail into the surging sea, when I was arrested by a narrow blast of warm--almost hot air, which thrilled me to the very centre of my being, and almost pinned me to the deck, while at the same time there flowed into my soul an eloquent and indignant protest against my supreme folly, accompanied by the spoken words, ‘Be patient! TRY!’ “It is impossible to attribute all these things to imagination.