b, or
whatever the high thing is called, made friends with the engineers, and
tooted on the captain's speaking trumpet, she'd have been in such a
state of rapture.

It was all heavenly, but I was glad to see the Irish coast, and found
it very lovely, so green and sunny, with brown cabins here and there,
ruins on some of the hills, and gentlemen's countryseats in the
valleys, with deer feeding in the parks. It was early in the morning,
but I didn't regret getting up to see it, for the bay was full of
little boats, the shore so picturesque, and a rosy sky overhead. I
never shall forget it.

At Queenstown one of my new acquaintances left us, Mr. Lennox, and when
I said something about the Lakes of Killarney, he sighed, and sung,
with a look at me...

"Oh, have you e'er heard of Kate Kearney?
She lives on the banks of Killarney;
From the glance of her eye,
Shun danger and fly,
For fatal's the glance of Kate Kearney."

Wasn't that nonsensical?

We only stopped at Liverpool a few hours. It's a dirty, noisy place,
and I was glad to leave it. Uncle rushed out and bought a pair of
dogskin gloves, some ugly, thick shoes, and an umbrella, and got shaved
_a la_ mutton chop, the first thing. Then he flattered himself that he
looked like a true Briton, but the first time he had the mud cleaned
off his shoes, the little bootblack knew that an American stood in
them, and said, with a grin, "There yer har, sir. I've given 'em the
latest Yankee shine." It amused Uncle immensely. Oh, I must tell you
what that absurd Lennox did! He got his friend Ward, who came on with
us, to order a bouquet for me, and the first thing I saw in my room was
a lovely one, with "Robert Lennox's compliments," on the card. Wasn't
that fun, girls? I like traveling.

I never shall get to London if I don't hurry. The trip was like riding
through a long picture gallery, full of lovely landscapes. The
farmhouses were my delight, with thatched roofs, ivy up to the eaves,
latticed windows, and stout women with rosy children at the doors. The
very cattle looked more tranquil than ours, as they stood knee-deep in
clover, and the hens had a contented cluck, as if they never got
nervous like Yankee biddies. Such perfect color I never saw, the grass
so green, sky so blue, grain so yellow, woods so dark, I was in a
rapture all the way. So was Flo, and we kept bouncing from one side to
the other, trying to see everything while we wer