re were only five whose presence affected us
in any way. A young Austrian, Herr Otto Frantz, with his wife, going out
as first secretary of legation to Tokio; Major Twining, R.E., and his wife;
and Miss Lungley, a cosmopolitan lady, who makes Kashmir her headquarters
and Rome her _annexe_.

We became acquainted with each other sooner than might have been expected,
by reason of an exploit of the stewardess--a gibbering idiot. The night
was cold, so several of the ladies, following an evil custom, sent forth
from their cabins those vile inventions called hot bottles. Only two came
back..., and then the fun began. The stewardess, who speaks no known
tongue, played "hunt the slipper" for the missing bottles through all the
cabins, whence she was shot out by the enraged inhabitants until she was
reduced to absolute imbecility, and the harassed stewards to gesticular
despair.

The missing articles were, I believe, finally discovered and routed out of
an unoccupied bed, where they had been laid and forgotten by the
addle-pated lady, and peace reigned.

We sailed from Trieste early on the morning of the 28th of February, and
steamed leisurely on our way. The Austrian Lloyd's "unaccelerated"
steamers are not too active in their movements, being wont to travel at
purely "economical speed," and so we were given an excellent view of some
of the Ionian Islands, steaming through the Ithaca channel, with the
snow-tipped peak of Cephalonia close on our starboard hand.

Then, leaving the far white hills of the Albanian coast to fade into the
blue mists, we sped

"Over the sea past Crete,"

until the tall lighthouse of Port Said rose on the horizon, followed by
the spars of much shipping, and the roofs of the houses dotted apparently
over the waters of the Mediterranean. At length the low mudbanks which
represent the two continents of Africa and Asia spread their dull monotony
on either hand, and the good ship sat quietly down for a happy day's
coaling.

Port Said has grown out of all knowledge since I first made its
acquaintance in 1877. It was then a cluster of evil-looking shanties, the
abode of the scum of the Levant, who waxed fat by the profits of the
gambling hells and the sale of pornographic photographs. It has now donned
the outwardly respectable look of middle age; it has laid itself out in
streets; the gambling dens have disappeared, and the robbers have betaken
themselves to the sale of the worst class of Japanese