happen on our coming voyage, I
started to scribble; and following the fantastic idea in the vision, I
shall adopt the abbreviated name of _The Cork_, for our good
ship--although some of the passengers preferred to call her _The
Corker_, as she was big and fine, and justly celebrated among those who
go down to the sea in fear and trembling. The fame of this ship and
her captain spread so far and wide that a worthy band of male and
female pilgrims besought him to take them to foreign parts, for a
consideration.

There was great ado at starting, and when we finally steamed out of New
York harbor past the "Goddess of Liberty" one fine morning, the air was
rent with the screeching of steam sirens and the tooting of whistles.
The "Goddess" stood calm and silent on her pedestal; she looked
virtuous (which was natural to her, being made of metal), but her stoic
indifference was somewhat upset by an icy stalactite that hung from her
classic nose. One of the passengers remarked that Bartholdi ought to
have supplied her with a handkerchief, but this suggestion was
considered flippant by his Philistine audience, and it made no
impression whatever.

The list of passengers stood at seven hundred, and an extensive
programme of entertainments was promoted for their amusement,
consisting of balls, lectures, glees, games of bridge whist and
progressive euchre, concerts, readings, and a bewildering schedule of
functions, too numerous to mention; in fact, it was a case of three
rings under one tent and a dozen side shows.

The passenger list comprised many examples of eccentric characters,
rarely found outside of the pages of Dickens; the majority, however,
were very interesting and refined people, and the exceptional types
only served to accentuate the desirability and variety of their
companionship on a voyage of this character. Here is a description of
some of them, exaggerated perhaps in places, but not far from the facts
when the peculiar conditions surrounding them are fully considered.
Many of them were doing their best to attract attention in a harmless
way, and in most cases they succeeded, as there is really nothing so
immaterial that it escapes all notice from our fellows.

For instance, there was a human skyscraper, a giant, who had an immense
pyramid of tousled hair--a Matterhorn of curls and pomatum--who gloried
in its possession and scorned to wear hat, bonnet or cap. When it
rained he went out to enjoy a good wetti