ll our party, he accepted my
offer. "You know," he said, "when we get settled, I can send home for
Aunt Priscilla, or go and fetch her, and I think that she would like the
life. It would be much more satisfactory than her round of tea-parties,
and give her something to think of besides her cats and dog, and I am
sure that you would all like her."

We of course said that we had no doubt we should, though Susan remarked
afterwards, that a real lady, as she supposed she was, from her giving
tea-parties and having two cats and a poodle, would scarcely like to
come out and live in the bush with such homely people as we were. I
will tell you by and by what came of it.

The people at the Cape, when they saw the size of the _May Flower_ and
the way she was laden, were surprised at our having come so far in
safety, and some chose to declare that we should never reach the end of
our voyage. I replied that they did not know the qualities of the
little craft; that many a big ship had gone down when small ones had
floated; that it was not so much the size of a vessel as the way she was
put together, and the quality of her gear, which made her safe or
unsafe, and moreover, that the same Providence which had protected us
hitherto was not sleeping. That was the feeling which kept me up from
first to last throughout our undertaking.

We heard at the Cape some news which gave me more concern than anything
else. It was, that war was again about to break out between England and
France, and that as many other nations were likely to be leagued with
France in arms against our country, we should have no small number of
enemies among whom to run the gauntlet. My chief hope was that we
should arrive at our destination before the news of the actual
commencement of hostilities could reach the enemy's cruisers in the
Eastern seas. One thing, however, I remembered; it was, that bad news
travels fast, and I have come to the conclusion that no news is worse
than that which tells of two civilised nations going to war.

Earthquakes, fires, floods, disasters at sea, are very bad; but war
means that thousands of the flowers of manhood are to be cut down in
their prime, or maimed, or wounded; that numbers of children are to be
made orphans; wives are to become widows; and fruitful lands laid
desolate. Such is war; ah! such is war.

I had made up my mind to go on to Australia, though I had many tempting
offers to remain at the Cape. I daresay