s and rattling cutlery to the erratic
beating of the Atlantic wave. The Captain's right and left hand
neighbours are exempt from the use of these appliances, and the small
area caused by this is the only space in the yards and yards of table
unencumbered by the "fiddles." The Captain scorns the aid of such
mechanical contrivances, and chatters away unconcerned, gracefully
balancing his soup-plate in his hands the while. I followed his example
as one to the manner born, but had I not been a bit of an amateur
conjuror I am afraid that I should not have been so successful. The
Captain challenged me, however, to make a sketch with the same ease as I
ate my dinner--and again I was forced to break my pledge!

[Illustration: THE CAPTAIN'S TABLE.]

It was amusing to listen to the petty jealousies and the little
grumblings of those not satisfied with their lot at table. One lady
stated as an excuse for having her meals in her cabin that her
neighbour, a bagman--or "drummer," as Americans would call him--made a
noise with his mouth while eating; and another lady elected to dine in
her stateroom in solitude because in the saloon she had her back to a
Bishop instead of her face!

It was my good fortune to meet on board that most genial and gifted of
men, "England's greatest tenor," Mr. Edward Lloyd, who under the
management of that equally genial and energetic impresario, Mr. Vert,
was on his way to charm the ears of our cousins on the other side. Then
we had one of the greatest favourites in the sporting world, who was
popping over, as he had been continually doing from his earliest youth,
to look after his estates in his native country. From the Captain down
to the under stokers he had been with all a familiar figure for many
years, and he had a pleasant word and a shake of the hands for
everybody. He could give you the straight tip for the Derby, was a fund
of information anent the latest weights for the big handicaps, and on
our arrival in the States it was with general satisfaction that we
learnt that one of his horses had won a race while its owner was
crossing the "Herring Pond."

We had yet another celebrity on board in the person of the bright little
Italian whose clever caricatures, especially those of Newmarket and
Newmarket celebrities, so delight us in the pages of _Vanity Fair_ over
the _nom de crayon_ "Lib." I think he caused us as much amusement as his
sketches, caricaturing everybody on board, not even exceptin