d a gilt-banded cap on his head, was flying about like one
distracted. An old gentleman similarly attired, with the exception of
the wen,--the surgeon as we afterwards learned,--read a large book
complacently in one corner, murmuring gently to himself. His upper teeth
lacked fixity, so to speak; and as they fell with every word, he had the
appearance of gnashing them continually at the invisible author. There
was a hurrying to and fro of round, fresh-faced stewards in short
jackets, a pushing and pulling of trunks and boxes, the sudden
appearance and disappearance of nondescript individuals in slouched hats
and water-proofs, the stirring about of heavy feet upon the deck above,
the rattling of chains, the 'yo-ing' of hoarse voices, as the sailors
pulled at the ropes, and, with it all, that sickening odor of oil, of
dead dinners--of everything, so indescribable, so never-to-be-forgotten.
Somewhat saddened, and considerably enlightened upon the subject of
ocean steamers, we sought our state-room. It boasted two berths (the
upper conveniently gained by mounting the stationary wash-stand), and a
velvet-covered sofa beneath the large, square window, which last we
learned, months later, when reduced to a port-hole for light and air, to
appreciate. A rack and half a dozen hooks against the wall completed its
furniture.

The time of departure arrived. We said the two little words that bring
so many tears and heartaches, and ran up on the deck with the rain in
our faces, and something that was not all rain in our eyes, for one last
look at our friends; but they were hidden from sight. There comes to me
a dim recollection of attempting to mount to an inaccessible place: of
clinging to wet ropes with the intention of seeing the last of the land;
of thinking it, after a time, a senseless proceeding, and of resigning
ourselves finally to our berths and inevitable circumstances. Eight
bells and the dinner bell; some one darkened our doorway.

"What's this? Don't give it up so. D'ye hear the dinner bell?"

"Are--are you the captain of this ship?" gasped Mrs. K., feebly, from
the sofa.

"To be sure, madam. Don't give it up so."

Mrs. K. groaned. There came to me one last gleam of hope. What if it
were possible to brave it out! In a moment my feet were on the floor,
but whether my name were McGregor, or not, I could not tell. I made an
abortive attempt after the pretty hood, prepared with such pleasant
anticipations, and had a dim