]
Contenting himself with this explanation, Uncle Nathan sought the boiler
deck again, to obtain the only possible oblivion for his uneasiness in
the society of mongrel gentlemen and monstrous mosquitos. Those who have
been subjected to these steamboat impositions will readily perceive that
Uncle Nathan was in no very agreeable state of mind. He was, to a
certain extent, home-sick. There was something in his expectant state,
and something in the gloomy aspect of the low city with its cheerless
lights, in the damp atmosphere and the clouds of mosquitos, to produce a
sigh for home and its joys. If any one had hummed "Sweet Home" in his
ears, it would have brought the tears to his eyes. He thought of
everything connected with his hallowed home: of the good-natured
spinster who was his housekeeper, and of the ten-acre lots upon his
farm; of the red steers and the gray mare; of the shaggy watch-dog and
the tabby-cat; of home in all its minutiae. Its familiar scenes visited
him with a vividness which added ten-fold to their influence. He was as
far abstracted as the mosquitos, which gathered in swarms upon every
tenable spot of his flesh, would permit, when his meditations were
disturbed by the gentleman who occupied the next chair.
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