Page:Life on the Mississippi (IA lifeonmississipptwai).pdf/90

84 thing fresh—this thing of getting up in the middle of the night to go to work. It was a detail in piloting that had never occurred to me at all, I knew that boats ran all night, but somehow I had never happened to reflect that somebody had to get up out of a warm bed to run them. I began to fear that piloting was not quite so romantic as I had imagined it was; there was something very real and work-like about this new phase of it.

It was a rather dingy night, although a fair number of stars were out. The big mate was at the wheel, and he had the old tub pointed at a star and was holding her straight up the middle of the river. The shores on cithereither [sic] hand were not much more than half a mile apart, but they seemed wonderfully far away and ever so vague and indistinct, The mate said:—

"We've got to land at Jones's plantation, sir."

The vengeful spirit in me exulted. I said to myself, I wish you joy of your job, Mr. Bixby; you'll have a good time finding Mr. Jones's plantation such a night as this; and I hope you never will find it as long as you live.