Aboard the steamboat, Professor Stuart of Andover, sitting on a sofa in
the saloon, generally in conversation with some person, resolving their
doubts on one point or another, speaking in a very audible voice; and
strangers standing or sitting around to hear him, as if he were an
ancient apostle or philosopher. He is a bulky man, with a large, massive
face, particularly calm in its expression, and mild enough to be
pleasing. When not otherwise occupied, he reads, without much notice of
what is going on around him. He speaks without effort, yet thoughtfully.
We got lost in a fog the morning after leaving Owl's Head. Fired a brass
cannon, rang bell, blew steam, like a whale snorting. After one of the
reports of the cannon, we heard a horn blown at no great distance, the
sound coming soon after the report. Doubtful whether it came from the
shore or a vessel. Continued our ringing and snorting; and by and by
something was seen to mingle with the fog that obscured everything beyond
fifty yards from us. At first it seemed only like a denser wreath of
fog; it darkened still more, till it took the aspect of sails; then the
hull of a small schooner came beating down towards us, the wind laying
her over towards us, so that her gunwale was almost in the water, and we
could see the whole of her sloping deck.
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