ved your four welcome letters.
The Americans are charming people."

VI

And here, to make an end, are a few random bits about the cruise to
Pernambuco:--

"_Plymouth, June 21, 1873._--I have been down to the seashore and
smelt the salt sea, and like it; and I have seen the _Hooper_ pointing
her great bow seaward, while light smoke rises from her funnels,
telling that the fires are being lighted; and sorry as I am to be
without you, something inside me answers to the call to be off and
doing.

"_Lalla Rookh, Plymouth, June 22._--We have been a little cruise in
the yacht over to the Eddystone lighthouse, and my sea-legs seem very
well on. Strange how alike all these starts are--first on shore,
steaming hot days with a smell of bone-dust and tar and salt water;
then the little puffing, panting steam-launch, that bustles out across
a port with green woody sides, little yachts sliding about, men-of-war
training-ships, and then a great big black hulk of a thing with a mass
of smaller vessels sticking to it like parasites; and that is one's
home being coaled. Then comes the champagne lunch, where every one
says all that is polite to every one else, and then the uncertainty
when to start. So far as we know _now_, we are to start to-morrow
morning at daybreak; letters that come later are to be sent to
Pernambuco by first mail.... My father has sent me the heartiest sort
of Jack Tar's cheer.

"_SS. Hooper, off Funchal, June 29._--Here we are, off Madeira at
seven o'clock in the morning. Thomson has been sounding with his
special toy ever since half-past three (1087 fathoms of water). I have
been watching the day break, and long jagged islands start into being
out of the dull night. We are still some miles from land; but the sea
is calmer than Loch Eil often was, and the big _Hooper_ rests very
contentedly after a pleasant voyage and favourable breezes. I have not
been able to do any real work except the testing [of the cable], for,
though not sea-sick, I get a little giddy when I try to think on
board.... The ducks have just had their daily souse and are quacking
and gabbling in a mighty way outside the door of the captain's deck
cabin, where I write. The cocks are crowing, and new-laid eggs are
said to be found in the coops. Four mild oxen have been untethered and
allowed to walk along the broad iron decks--a whole drove of sheep
seem quite conten