ea, the boats were ready,
and everybody on board had a good chance. Care first of all is needed,
and then fear may be banished. The smart agent reads his report glibly
to the directors of a steamboat company--and yet I have seen such smart
agents superintending the departure of vessels whereof the appearance
was enough to make a good judge quake for the safety of crew and cargo.

What do I advise? Well, in the first place, I must remind shoregoing
folk that a sound well-found vessel will live through anything. Let
passengers beware of lines which pay a large dividend and show nothing
on their balance-sheets to allow for depreciation. In the next place, if
any passenger on a long voyage should see that the proper lights are not
shown, he ought to wake up his fellow passengers at any hour of the
night, and go with his friends to threaten the captain. Never mind
bluster or oaths--merely say, "If your lights are not shown, you may
regard your certificate as gone." If that does not bring the gentleman
to his senses, nothing will. Again, take care in any case that no raw
foreign seamen are allowed to go on the look-out in any vessel, for a
misunderstood shout at a critical moment may bring sudden doom on
hundreds of unsuspecting fellow-creatures. Above all, see that the
water-casks in every boat are kept full. In this way the sea tragedies
may be a little lessened in their hateful number.

_March, 1889._

_A RHAPSODY OF SUMMER_.

There came into my life a time of strenuous effort, and I drank all the
joys of labour to the lees. When the rich dark midnights of summer
drooped over the earth, I could hardly bear to think of the hours of
oblivion which must pass ere I felt the delight of work once more. And
the world seemed very beautiful; and, when I looked up to the solemn
sky, so sweetly sown with stars, I could see stirring words like "Fame"
and "Gladness" and "Triumph" written dimly across the vault; so that my
heart was full of rejoicing, and all the world promised fair. In those
immortal midnights the sea spoke wonderful things to me, and the long
rollers glittering under the high moon bore health and bright promise as
they hastened to the shore. And, when the ships stole--oh, so
silently!--out of the shadows and moved over the diamond track of the
moon's light, I sent my heart out to the lonely seamen and prayed that
they might be joyous like me. Then the ringing of the song of
multitudinous birds sounded in t