“We stayed in Bristol some time, and started at last for New York. On our passage out, we come across a wreck, and we sailed within forty rods on her, and sent out a small boat, and there warn’t a livin’ soul aboard to tell the story, and there she lay bottom side up, and as handsome a copper bottom as ever you see; but we couldn’t do any thing with her, and so we left her and sailed on.
“About a week arter, we was a sailin’ along afore a pleasant breeze, and the moon shinin’ on the waters, and they looked like melted silver, the first thing we knew up come a seventy-four gun ship right alongside, her guns run out, and men standin’ with burnin’ torches jist ready to fire, and we felt streaked enough, for we expected to be blown up every minute, and there we stood a tremblin’ and didn’t dare to say one word; and she passed right by and never fired a pistol, and in one minute she was out of sight—she come and she went and that’s all you can say. Now that’s what the sailors call ‘_the phantom ship_.’ You see there’s no ship about it, only some curious appearances on the sea, that always scares sailors, and makes them think they are a goin’ to be captured. Well, we had a fine v’yge home, and made the New York light the first of November, arter a cruise of nearly twelve months. I didn’t like Captain Williams, and I quit him, and he paid me off one hundred and fifteen dollars, and I had now two hundred and fifty dollars, and I kept it safe. And a part of the time I went round New York with a saw-buck on my shoulder, and part of the time I was a gentleman at large in the big city—and so I spent that winter.
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Peter sails for Gibralter with Captain Bainbridge—his character—horrible storm—Henry falls from aloft and is killed—a funeral at sea—English lady prays—Gibralter and the landing of soldiers—a frigate and four merchantmen—Napoleon—Wellington and Lord Nelson—a slave ship—her cargo—five hundred slaves—a wake of blood fifteen hundred miles—sharks eat ’em—Amsterdam—winter there—Captain B. winters in Bristol—Dutchmen—visit to an old battle field—stories about Napoleon—Peter falls overboard and is drowned, _almost_—make New York the fourth of July—Peter lends five hundred dollars and loses it—sails to the West Indies with Captain Thompson—returns to New York and winters with Lady Rylander—sails with Captain Williams for Gibralter—fleet thirty-seven sail—cruise up the Mediterranean—Mt. Etna—sails to Liverpool—Lord Wellington and his troops—war between Great Britain and the United States—sails for New York and goes to sea no more—his own confessions of his character—dreadful wicked—sings a sailor song and winds up his yarn.