The next morning, he said I should not leave him until I was provided for in some way or other. Through his influence, a Mr. James, his brother-in-law, employed me to work in his cloth-dressing establishment. As I was ignorant of the business, and was not really needed, my board was to be my only compensation. My new situation soon grew delightful to me, and I felt happier than I had ever done since I left Bladen. My time passed very pleasantly, especially my evenings, when the neighbors came in to hear me spin sea yarns and forecastle songs. Some of the young men of the “baser sort” judged me to be a fit instrument to act Samson for their enjoyment, in the house of God. So they invited me to attend the meetings of the Methodist Episcopal church in that place. But they greatly misjudged the character of seamen; who, as before remarked, usually pay respect to the ordinances and ministers of religion. I attended the meeting, but not to make sport. The result of this ill-designed invitation on myself will appear hereafter. The winter months fled, and the spring found me unfurnished with means co-extensive with my wants. Determined to remain ashore, if possible, I hired myself to a farmer for my board. In the evenings I braided straw hats, and thus obtained a scanty supply of clothing. A little incident, illustrative of the thoughtless playfulness of sailor character, may not be displeasing to my young readers. Whoever has seen a perfect novice undertake to guide an ox-team, may form some idea of the ludicrous adventures through which I passed during my agricultural novitiate with these horned animals. Perseverance, however, gave me some little control over our team, when, as fate would have it, my employer “_swapped_” them for another pair. When they came home, after some little hallooing and whipping, I succeeded in “yoking” them; then seizing the goad-stick, with as much dignity as ever Neptune wielded his trident, I mounted the tongue, (which I called the bowsprit,) and with the ladders rigged up at both ends I gave the word of command to my team. They, however, showed signs of mutiny, and, taking to their heels, bore me off in triumph. This was sport indeed; there I stood, my head and shoulders passed between the front rigging, laughing as if my sides would burst, while rakes, forks and boards were playing leap-frog, at the tail of my cart, and my master’s boy was half frightened out of his wits. At length the angry voice of my master roused me from my sportive mood; he did not relish the rough usage his farming tools were receiving, and coming up with my horned steeds, he speedily stopped their speed and my sport. I need only add that his rebukes made me more careful afterwards.