The whole company preserved a dignified silence, which was occasionally broken by deep sighs coming from the women in reply to a half-whispered "All de way from de norf in a paper canno bless de Lord! bless de Lord!" This dull monotony was broken by the entrance of a young negro who, having made a passage in a sloop to Charleston through Bull's Bay, was looked upon as a great traveller, and to him were referred disputes upon nautical matters. He had not yet seen the boat, but he proceeded to tell the negroes present all about it. He first bowed to me with a "How'dy, how'dy, cap'n," and then struck an attitude in the middle of the floor. Upon this natural orator Seba Gillings' dignity had no effect was he not a travelled man? His exordium was: "How fur you cum, sar?" I replied, about fourteen hundred miles. "

Fourteen hundred miles!" he roared; "duz you knows how much dat is, honnies? it's jes one thousand four hundred miles." All the women groaned out, "Bless de Lord! bless de Lord!" and clapped their shrivelled hands in ecstasy. The little black tried to run his fingers through his short, woolly hair as he continued: "What is dis yere world a-coming to? Now, yous ere folks, did ye's eber hear de likes o' dis a paper boat?" To which the crones replied, clapping their hands, "Bless de Lord! bless de Lord! Only the Yankee-mens up norf can make de paper boats. Bless de Lord!" "And what," continued the orator, "and what will the Yankee-mens do next? Dey duz ebery ting. Can dey bring a man back agen? Can dey bring a man back to bref?" "No! no!" howled the women; "only de Lord can bring a man back agen no Yankee-mens can do dat. Bless de Lord! bless de Lord!" "And what sent dis Yankeeman one tousand four hundred miles in his paper boat?" "De Lord! de Lord!

" shouted the now highly excited women, violently striking the palms of their hands together. "And why," went on this categorical negro, "did de Lord send him down souf in de paper boat?" "Kase he couldn't hab cum in de paper boat ef de Lord hadn't a-sent him. O, bless de Lord! bless de Lord!" "And what duz he call his paper boat?" "Maria Theresa," I replied. "Maria Truss Her," cried the orator. "He calls her Maria Truss Her. Berry good, berry good name; kase he truss his life in her ebry day, and dat's why he calls his little boat Truss Her. Yes, de Yankeemans makes de gunboats and de paper boats. Has de gemmin from de norf any bacca for dis yere chile?"

As the women had become very piously inclined, and were in just the state of nervous excitement to commence "de shoutings," old Uncle Seba rudely informed them that "de Yankeemans wants sleep," and cleared the room of the crowd, to my great relief, for the state of the atmosphere was beyond description. Seba had a closet where he kept onions, muskrat skins, and other pieces of personal property. He now set his wife to sweeping it out, and I spread my clean blankets with a sigh upon the black floor, knowing I should carry away in the morning more than I had brought into Seba's dwelling. I will not now expatiate upon the small annoyances of travel; but to the canoeist who may follow the southern watercourses traversed by the paper canoe, I would quietly say, "Keep away from cabins of all kinds, and you will by so doing travel with a light heart and even temper."