“Well, my dreams were nothing but the continuation of my thoughts during the day.  I fancied I was married, and the owner of a large sugar plantation.  I had a good soft bed, and my pious wife was feeling about me with her soft hands, probably to see if my heart beat quick, and if I had good dreams;—­a pity I did not awake then, for I should have saved my dollars, as the hand which I was dreaming of was that of the hospitable general searching for my pocket-book.  It was late when I opened my eyes—­and, lo! the sleepers were gone, with the boat, my boots, my coat, my hat, and, I soon found, with my money.  I had been left alone, with a greasy Mackinaw blanket, and as in my stupefaction I gazed all round, and up and down, I saw my pocket-book empty, which the generous general had humanely left to me to put other notes in, ’when I could get any.’  I kicked it with my foot, and should indubitably have been food for cat-fish, had I not heard most a propos the puffing of a steam-boat coming down the river.”

At that moment the parson interrupted his narrative, by observing: 

“Well, I’d no idea that I had talked so long; why, man, look to the east, ’tis almost daylight.”

And sure enough the horizon of the prairie was skirted with that red tinge which always announces the break of day in these immense level solitudes.  Our companions had all fallen asleep, and our horses, looking to the east, snuffed the air and stamped upon the ground, as if to express their impatience to leave so inhospitable a region, I replied to the parson:—­

“It is now too late for us to think of sleeping; let us stir the fire, and go on with your story.”

We added fuel to the nearly consumed pile, and shaking our blankets, which were heavy with the dew, my companion resumed his narrative:—­

“Well, I reckon it was more than half an hour before the steam-boat came in sight, and as the channel of the river ran close in with the shore, I was soon picked up.  The boat was going to St. Louis, and as I had not a cent left to pay my passage, I was obliged, in way of payment, to relate my adventure.  Everybody laughed.  All the men declared the joke was excellent, and that General Meyer was a clever rascal; they told me I should undoubtedly meet him at New Orleans, but it would be of no use.  Everybody knew Meyer and his pious family, but he was so smart, that nothing could be done against him.  Well, the clerk was a good-humoured fellow; he lent me an old coat and five dollars; the steward brought me a pair of slippers, and somebody gave me a worn-out loose cap.  This was very good, but my luck was better still.  The cause of my own ruin had been the grounding of a steam-boat; the same accident happening again set me on my legs.  Just as we turned the southern point of Illinois, we buried ourselves in a safe bed of mud.  It was so common an occurrence, that nobody cared much about it, except a Philadelphian going to Texas; he was in a great hurry to go on westward, and no wonder.  I learned afterwards that he had absconded from the bank, of which he was a cashier, with sixty thousand dollars.