“A fair rising and a lucky day to you, Patroon!” cried the Alderman, saluting a large, slow-moving, gentlemanly-looking young man of five-and-twenty, who advanced, with the gravity of one of twice that number of years, from the interior of the house, towards its outer door “The winds are bespoken, and here is as fine a day as ever shone out of a clear sky, whether it came from the pure atmosphere of Holland, or of old England itself.  Colonies and patronage!  If the people on the other side of the ocean had more faith in mother Nature, and less opinion of themselves, they would find it very tolerable breathing in the plantations.  But the conceited rogues are like the man who blew the bellows, and fancied he made the music; and there is never a hobbling imp of them all, but he believes he is straighter and sounder, than the best in the colonies.  Here is our bay, now, as smooth as if it were shut in with twenty dykes, and the voyage will be as safe as if it were made on a canal.”

“Dat werry well, if a do it,” grumbled Cupid, who busied himself affectionately about the person of his master.  “I think it alway better to travel on ‘e land, when a gentle’um own so much as Masser Oloff Der war’ ’e time a ferry-boat go down, wid crowd of people; and nobody ebber come up again to say how he feel.”

“Here is some mistake!” interrupted the Alderman, throwing an uneasy glance at his young friend.  “I count four-and-fifty years, and remember no such calamity.”

“He’m werry sing’lar how a young folk do forget!  ‘Ere war’ drown six people in dat werry-boat.  A two Yankee, a Canada Frenchman, and a poor woman from a Jarseys.  Ebbery body war werry sorry for a poor woman from a Jarseys!”

“Thy tally is false, Master Cupid,” promptly rejoined the Alderman, who was rather expert at figures.  “Two Yankees, a Frenchman, and your Jersey woman, make but four.”

“Well, den I s’pose ‘ere war’ one Yankee; but I, know all war’ drown, for ’e Gubbenor lose he fine coach-horses in dat werry-boat.”

“The old fellow is right, sure enough; for I remember the calamity of the horses, as if it were but yesterday.  But Death is monarch of the earth, and none of us may hope to escape his scythe, when the appointed hour shall come!  Here are no nags to lose, to-day; and we may commence our voyage, Patroon, with cheerful faces and light hearts.  Shall we proceed?”

Oloff Van Staats, or the Patroon of Kinderhook, as, by the courtesy of the colony, he was commonly termed, did not want for personal firmness.  On the contrary, like most of those who were descended from the Hollanders, he was rather distinguished for steadiness in danger, and obstinacy in resistance.  The little skirmish which had just taken place, between his friend and his slave, had proceeded from the several apprehensions; the one feeling a sort of parental interest in his safety, and the other having particular reasons for wishing him to persevere in his intention to embark, instead of any justifiable cause in the character of the young proprietor himself.  A sign to the boy who bore a portmanteau, settled the controversy; and then Mr. Van Staats intimated his readiness to move.