Here she contrived to bake into a cake a letter which she gave to a visitor, who took it to one of her former companions in sin, and one day, while walking with her confiding teacher in the garden, a boat appeared rowed by four men.  Into this the young hypocrite jumped, and like a “sow that was washed, returned to wallowing in the mire.”

In contrast to her ungrateful depravity, the boy I had chucked into the closet on my first night here became my firm friend, and the stroke oar of my private boat crew.

One day I was taking a boat ride in the harbor with two of my lady assistants and six stalwart boy oarsmen, when a boat shot out at us from Blackwell’s Island with four villainous men and two degraded women.  Coming alongside, one of the women said to the boys:  “Throw that officer overboard, and come with us; we will get you $400 a piece as bounty, then you can desert from the army, and have a jolly good time.”  My teachers fainted with fear; my crew rested on their oars, wild with desire to escape; it was a crisis.  I looked them steadily in the eyes.

“Boys,” I said, quietly, “when sinners entice thee, consent thou not—­row.”

“We won’t hurt you,” said my leader; “you have been good to us; let us get into that boat.”

“Never,” said I.  “You shall not go to hell, pull!” The men grabbed at me, my boys pounded them off with their oars, and one of the men fired two shots which whistled close to my head, but the boys pulled vigorously, and we sailed away amid the jeers and curses of our enemies.

“Sherman,” said I, to my stroke oarsman, as we landed on our island, “why didn’t you throw me overboard?”

“You have been kind to us,” he replied, “and we never go back on our friends.”

I had the pleasure before I left this school, to secure good positions for all my crew, and they became useful men.  I was soon after this promoted to the vice-principalship of the institution, and an ex-minister was appointed my first assistant, a good man, but quite absent-minded.  He recalled to my memory the story of a man who came home in a pouring rain, put his wet umbrella into bed with his wife, and stood himself up behind the door where he remained all night.

One day, when I was off duty, I went sailing with two ladies through “Little Hell Gate,” which rushes with great fury by our island, to the sea.  All at once the alarm bell rang.  In my haste to get ashore, I ran the boat onto a partially submerged rock, and it would have been capsized, had I not jumped out onto the rock and pushed it off.  Down I went under the rushing tide.  When I came to the surface I saw the white belly of a shark, as he turned to seize me in his jaws.  I could almost feel his sharp teeth.  My head struck the side of the boat, just as the ladies, with great presence of mind, grabbed me by the hair, and pulled me on board.  We landed and I rushed, puffing and dripping like a porpoise, to the wall gate, unlocked it and entered.