Here the two amiable interlocutors were interrupted by a squabble that had grown up between the long boat steerer and some Chilean new comers whom he had desired to ‘keep it up,’ and not satisfied with applying ‘moral suasion’ to the case, he had taken the liberty to drag one or two of them into the middle of the floor by their long ear locks. Not caring to dance on compulsion, they struck long-legs with their fists, and he gave them battle. He kept them at a distance a few moments with his long arms, but they made up for this by drawing their cochillars. Brandishing their knives they rushed upon him with great fury. The other whalemen interfered in behalf of their shipmate, while all the cholars present took sides with their countrymen. The battle threatened to be serious, and blood had already begun to flow, when the door opened and a stout, broad-shouldered man entered the apartment. ‘Charley, is that you?’ shouted the master of the house. ‘Yes, what is the muss?’ cried the new-come...