eading down underground; with
its group of petticoated Greeks in the hall, and, in its rooms of honor
above, a young Austrian princess of historic name and extraordinary
beauty--with all this, and its cheerful lies, its smiling, gay-hearted
irresponsibility, the Corfu inn was an entertaining place. The Greek
steamer came at last. She had been driven out of her course by the gale,
so said the pirate, ostensibly retired from business, who superintended
the embarkations from the hotel. This lithe freebooter had presented
himself at frequent intervals during the baffling days when we watched
the signal, and he always entered without knocking. He could not grasp
the idea, probably, that ceremonies would be required by persons who
intended to sail by the coaster. When we reached this bark ourselves,
later, we forgave him--a little. Her deck was the most democratic place
I have ever seen. We think that we approve of equality in the United
States. But the Greeks carry their approval further than we do. On this
deck there were no reserved portions, no prohibitions; the persons who
had paid for a first-class ticket had the same rights as those which
were accorded to the steerage travellers, and no more; and as the latter
were numerous, they obtained by far the larger share, eating the
provisions which they had brought with them, sleeping on their
coverlids, playing games, and smoking in the best places. There was no
system, and little discipline; the sailors came up and washed the deck
(a process which was very necessary) whenever and however they pleased,
and we had to jump for our lives and mount a bench to escape the stream
from the hose, as it suddenly appeared without warning from an
unlooked-for quarter. The passengers, who came on board at various
points during a cruise of several days, brought with them light personal
luggage, which consisted of hens tied together by the legs, a live
sheep, kitchen utensils, and bedding, all of which they placed
everywhere and anywhere, according to their pleasure. A Greek dressed
in the full national costume accompanied us all the way to Missolonghi
so closely that he was closer than a brother; save when we were locked
in our small sleeping-cabins below (the one extra possession which a
first-class ticket bestows), we were literally elbow to elbow with him.
And his elbows were a weapon, like the closed umbrella held under the
arm in a crowded street--that pleasant habit of persons who are