Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. " "We shall have a durty night on it, to a sartinty, landlord," observed an old oneeyed sailor, who sat smoking his pipe by the fire-side. "I'm my own master now, and I'll do as I please. You creep around in a nun’s habit, peering into a private ballroom. And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit.
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