d daily, there is no means of getting
the information that can make a sea voyage so infinitely interesting. I
would suggest large sized charts showing landmarks, ship's position, and
barometrical readings. What is more interesting at sea than the charts
of ocean depths, currents, winds, salinity, and temperature! If you go
too fast to touch on Plankton, Nekton, and Benthos, at least let the
poor first class passengers have a compass, if not a barograph and a
thermometer, to eke out conversations on the weather, the day's run, and
bridge.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"THE BAY"--the Great Bay, calm as a mill pond--there's a jolly sense of
rest and peace on board; I suppose everyone knows that feeling who has
gone East. For weeks you have been doing things, shopping, packing,
keeping appointments, then you get out of the bustle of town, breathe
again clear air, and rest, on the level sea, that lovely water cushion,
the most soothing of all beds.

Everyone is soporific and very restful. We begin to distinguish
individuals amongst the many passengers, but so far no one seems
particularly conspicuous. They are rather good-looking as a crowd, and
one or two children are like angels--at least we hope so.

It is darker ahead now and to the east, the shadow of the World on
Nothing, I suppose! possibly an October breeze coming--low banks of
cirri-cumuli above the horizon--clear overhead with streaks of rusty red
cloud fine as hair--the evening is cold, here is an attempt at it with a
brush. And we had music in the place for music on deck; an Irish lady
played the fiddle and played so well with a piano accompaniment to an
audience of six--if the Bay keeps quite the audience ought to increase.
After the sunset, dinner--what a tedious business it is; the waiting is
perfectly planned, but the waiters themselves have to wait ages at the
two service hatches, where they get all jammed together, so the time
between the courses seems interminable; you almost forget you are at a
meal at all. To-night dinner and conversation both hang fire at our end
of the table, and I overhear from the other end where my cousin sits
interesting scraps about India, which is distinctly annoying; R. is
relating some of his experiences there that set his neighbours and my
niece and Mrs Deputy-Commissioner all chuckling.

[Illustration]

I gather that R. converted a certain Swiss. They lived near each other,
a lo