he steerage cook-room
were turned half-way round, and the capping of the huge smokestack was
moved several inches. The terrible wind lifted the hurricane-deck, so
that six of its props fell out. There was danger of the upper deck and
stateroom being blown away. That was a time to try people's souls, to
make them consider whether they were the Lord's or not. It was a blessed
thing to feel that we were in God's hands, that even if the water closed
over our bodies, it would be only the gate of heaven! What happiness to
be able to feel in one's heart: "My Father rules the storm." Many of us
thought of grandpa's sermon on the Sabbath, when he said, "With Christ
in the ship, we may smile at the storm."

The wind was so violent that the men doing duty on deck had to lie down,
and pull themselves about, or creep on their hands and knees. For two
hours our forward rail was three feet under water, the vessel lay so
much on one side, and for some time the ship would not mind her helm,
and lay in the trough of the sea. Finally, they rigged a small sail aft,
and that brought her up. He who rules the wind and the sea caused the
storm to abate, and towards evening it was comparatively calm. We had
had nothing to eat for twenty-four hours, which will give you some idea
of the storm. Staterooms and clothes were in many instances wet; but no
one complained, for all felt thankful for our escape. In the evening
there was a meeting in the saloon, and almost all the passengers
assembled with the officers of the vessel to give thanks to God for his
preserving mercy.

The next morning I rose early, so that I might see the entrance to
Acapulco Harbor. This entrance is very narrow, and is surrounded by high
wooded hills, forming one of the best harbors on the Pacific coast,
south of San Francisco. I went on shore again; but I gave you a
description of the place before.

August 27 found us at anchor off Panama. We were sorry to leave our good
ship and her pleasant corps of officers. When we were in the cars, the
natives brought a great many things to sell. One man would have
ear-rings, the next wine, then "nice lomonard," or little ornaments of
pearl-shell, while others brought fruit and cakes. After a tiresome
hour, we started on our journey across the Isthmus.

One thing that attracted my attention was the telegraph-posts; they
looked like stone, but were made of concrete.

"What is _concrete_?" asked Harry.

In this instance, I suppose