Rousseau wished to die to the strains of sweet music. Could
I choose my accompaniment, I could wish to pass into the dim
beyond with the tolling of the Abbey bell sounding in my
ears, telling me of the race that had been run, and calling
me, as it had called the little white-haired child, for the
last time--_to sleep_.

I have had many letters from readers speaking of this passage in my
book, some of the writers going so far as to say that tears fell as
they read. It came from the heart and perhaps that is why it reached
the hearts of others.

We were rowed over in a small boat to the Edinburgh steamer in the
Firth of Forth. As I was about to be taken from the small boat to the
steamer, I rushed to Uncle Lauder and clung round his neck, crying
out: "I cannot leave you! I cannot leave you!" I was torn from him by
a kind sailor who lifted me up on the deck of the steamer. Upon my
return visit to Dunfermline this dear old fellow, when he came to see
me, told me it was the saddest parting he had ever witnessed.

We sailed from the Broomielaw of Glasgow in the 800-ton sailing ship
Wiscasset. During the seven weeks of the voyage, I came to know the
sailors quite well, learned the names of the ropes, and was able to
direct the passengers to answer the call of the boatswain, for the
ship being undermanned, the aid of the passengers was urgently
required. In consequence I was invited by the sailors to participate
on Sundays, in the one delicacy of the sailors' mess, plum duff. I
left the ship with sincere regret.

The arrival at New York was bewildering. I had been taken to see the
Queen at Edinburgh, but that was the extent of my travels before
emigrating. Glasgow we had not time to see before we sailed. New York
was the first great hive of human industry among the inhabitants of
which I had mingled, and the bustle and excitement of it overwhelmed
me. The incident of our stay in New York which impressed me most
occurred while I was walking through Bowling Green at Castle Garden. I
was caught up in the arms of one of the Wiscasset sailors, Robert
Barryman, who was decked out in regular Jackashore fashion, with blue
jacket and white trousers. I thought him the most beautiful man I had
ever seen.

He took me to a refreshment stand and ordered a glass of sarsaparilla
for me, which I drank with as much relish as if it were the nectar of
the gods. To this day nothing that I have ever seen of the kin