r
ship there, right up against the dock side. It towers above us, blocking
out the sky as a street of six-storey houses would do. In fact, it is
rather like looking up at a street side, and when we see the sloping
ladder leading to the deck, like those used for hen-roosts but on a
giant scale, we feel our adventure is well begun. Hang on to the
hand-rail, for the wind is blowing hard, and if you went down into the
black dirty water between the ship and the dock there would be very
little chance of getting you out again; even as we climb up something
flicks past us and is carried away, and we see it floating far below; it
is an enormous white handkerchief which the man up there on deck has
been waving to his wife in farewell. It is gone, and it is to be hoped
he has another handy, he'll need it to-day. At the top of the ladder a
man in uniform looks at our ticket and calls out the number of our
cabin. He is so smart and has such a dignified manner we might well
mistake him for the captain, but he is an officer, called the purser,
who looks after the passengers. A bright-faced steward, unmistakably
English, takes possession of us and pilots us down some well-carpeted
stairs, through a large room where small tables are laid for lunch, and
into a very long narrow passage shining with white enamel paint. There
are little doors with numbers on them on one side, and about half-way
along the steward stops and ushers us into our cabin. It is a tiny room.
If you lay down from side to side you could touch each wall with head
and heels, and if I lay down from end to end I could do the same, and I
am rather bigger than you! There are two shelves, one above the other,
made up as beds, a piece of furniture with drawers and a looking-glass
in it, a fixed basin such as those you see in bathrooms, and a few pegs
to hang things on, and that is all. Our cabin trunks, which we sent on
ahead, are here before us, and through the open round port-hole we catch
a glimpse of grey water. We are lucky indeed to get a cabin to
ourselves, for in many, not a bit larger than this, there would be a
third bunk or bed, and a stranger would be forced in on us. When we have
settled our things you will be surprised to find how comfortable it all
is, for everything is so conveniently arranged. It is just as well to
put out what we shall want at once while the ship is steady, for once
she begins to roll----

When we have done this we go back to the saloon, enc