A woman's heart-rending shriek rang through the cabin of the steamer
_Huntsville_ one afternoon, as she lay taking in wood. I was
standing on the guards watching the jolly, happy negroes as they
seized the huge sticks and ran to the music of their camp-meeting
hymns and piled it near the engine. Rushing back, I saw that a
little girl had fallen overboard into the water. Losing no time,
I jumped overboard and got ashore with the little one. When I
carried her, dripping and wet, to her parents, who stood on the gang-
plank, the mother caught the baby in her arms and nearly smothered
her with kisses; and my turn came next, for she began to hug and
kiss me, pouring forth her gratitude; but I pushed her away, as I
did not want her husband to see her kiss me. The little one was
taken into the ladies' cabin and dry clothes put on her, and the
father came down and wanted to recompense me, but I would not have
it, for I said, "I have only done what I would for any child that
was drowning." Years afterwards I met the young lady and her father
traveling on one of the New Orleans packets. She had grown to be
a beautiful young lady, but her mother had been dead many years.