e is so much more room, and the whole arrangements for
the comfort of the passengers are all that could be desired. The
Americans certainly do seem to understand comfort in travelling. The
stewards and people about are civil and obliging, and don't seem to be
always looking for a "tip," as is so customary on board an English
boat. This ship also is cleaner than the one I have left--there are
none of those hideous smells that so disgusted me on board 'The City.'
The meals are better, and there is much greater variety--lots of
different little dishes--of meat, stews, mashed potatoes, squashes,
hominy or corn-cake, and such like. So far as the living goes,
therefore, I think I shall get on very well on board the 'Moses
Taylor.'

The weather is wet and what sailors call "dirty," and it grows
sensibly colder. As there is no pleasure in remaining on deck, I keep
for the most part below. I like my company very much--mostly
consisting of the shipwrecked men of the 'Saginaw.' They are nice,
lively fellows; they encourage me to talk, and we have many a hearty
laugh together. Some of them give me no end of yarns about the late
war, in which they were engaged; and they tell me (whether true or
not, I have no means of knowing), that the captain of the ship we are
in was first lieutenant of the "pirate" ship 'Florida.' I have not
found amongst my companions as yet any of that self-assertion or pride
of nationality said to distinguish the Yankee; nor have I heard a word
from them of hostility to John Bull. Indeed, for the purpose of
drawing them out, I began bragging a little about England, but they
let me have my own way without contradiction. They say nothing about
politics, or, if they allude to the subject, express very moderate
opinions. Altogether, I get on with them; and like them very much.

The 'Moses Taylor' proves a steadier sea-boat than I expected from her
built-up appearance. She certainly gives many a long steady roll; but
there is little pitching or tossing. When the sea strikes her, she
quivers all over in a rather uncomfortable way. She is rather an old
ship; she formerly ran between Vancouver and San Francisco, and is
certainly the worse for wear. The huge engine-shafts shake the beams
which support them; the pieces of timber tremble under the heavy
strokes of the engine, and considerable apertures open from time to
time in the deck as she heaves to and fro. The weather, however, is
not stormy; and the ship will d