s dry quickly on young cheeks, and they will
be laughing before an hour is over. "Let them go," says the economist;
"we have too many mouths to feed in these little islands of ours; their
going will give us more room, more cattle, more chance to keep our acres
for the few'; let them go." My friend, that is just half the picture, and
no more; we may get a peep at the other half before you and I part.

It was about five o'clock in the afternoon of the 4th of May when the
"Samaria" steamed slowly between the capes of Camden and Carlisle, and
rounding out into Atlantic turned her head towards the western horizon.
The ocean lay unruffled along the rocky headlands of Ireland's southmost
shore. A long line of smoke hanging suspended between sky and sea marked
the unseen course of another steamship farther away to the south. A
hill-top, blue and lonely, rose above the rugged coast-line, the far-off
summit of some inland mountain; and as evening came down over the still
tranquil ocean and the vessel clove her outward way through
phosphorescent water, the lights along the iron coast grew fainter in
distance till there lay around only the unbroken circle of the sea.

ON BOARD.-A trip across the Atlantic is now-a-days a very ordinary
business; in fact, it is no longer a voyage-it is a run, you may almost
count its duration to within four hours; and as for fine weather, blue
skies, and calm seas, if they come, you may be thankful for them, but
don't expect them, and you won't add a sense of disappointment to one of
discomfort. Some experience of the Atlantic enables me to affirm that
north or south of 35 degrees north and south latitude there exists no such
thing as pleasant sailing.

But the usual run of weather, time, and tide outside the ship is not
more alike in its characteristics than the usual run of passenger one
meets inside. There is the man who has never been sea-sick in his life,
and there is the man who has never felt well upon board ship, but who,
nevertheless, both manage to consume about fifty meals of solid food in
ten days. There is the nautical landsman who tells you that he has been
eighteen times across the Atlantic and four times round the Cape of Good
Hope, and who is generally such a bore upon marine questions that it is a
subject of infinite regret that he should not be performing a fifth
voyage round that distant and interesting promontory. Early in the
voyage, owing to his superior sailing qualities, he h