f retreat, and devoted to their
own thoughts or slumbers, add to this effect. With which comes the
thought of the brave little vessels, which through day and night, year
after year, dance over these uncertain waters in 'all weathers,' as it
is termed. When the night is black as Erebus, and the sea in its fury
boiling and raging over the pier, the Lord Warden with its
storm-shutters up, and timid guests removed to more sheltered
quarters, the very stones of the pier shaken from their places by the
violence of the monster outside--the little craft, wrapping its mantle
about its head, goes out fearlessly, and, emerging from the harbour to
be flung about, battered with wild fury, forces her way on through the
night, which its gallant sailors call, with truth, 'an awful one.'

While busy with these thoughts I take note of a little scene of
comedy, or perhaps of a farcical kind, which is going on near me, in
which two 'Harrys' of the purest kind were engaged, and whose oddities
lightened the tediousness of the passage. One had seen foreign parts,
and was therefore regarded with reverence by his companion.

They were promenading the deck, and the following dialogue was borne
to me in snatches:

First Harry (interrogatively, and astonished): 'Eh? no! Now, really?'

Second Harry: 'Oh, Lord bless yer, yes! It comes quite easy, you know'
(or 'yer know'). 'A little trouble at first; but, Lord bless yer'
(this benediction was imparted many times during the conversation),
'it ain't such a difficult thing at all.'

I now found they were speaking of acquiring the French language--a
matter the difficulty of which they thought had been absurdly
overrated. Then the second Harry: 'Of course it is! Suppose you're in
a Caffy, and want some wine; you just call to the waiter, and you
say--'

First Harry (who seems to think that the secret has already been
communicated): 'Dear me; yes, to be sure--to be sure! I never thought
of that. A Caffy?'

Second Harry: 'Oh, Lor' bless yer, it comes as easy as--that! Well,
you go say to the fellow--just as you would say to an English
waiter--"_Don-ny maw_"--(pause)--"_dee Vinne_."'

First Harry (amazed): 'So _that's_ the way! Dear, dear me! Vinne!'

Second Harry: 'O' course it is the way! Suppose you want yer way to
the railway, you just go ask for the "_Sheemin--dee--Fur_." _Fur_, you
know, means "rail" in French--_Sheemin_ is "the road," you know.'

Again lost in wonder at the simplicity of w