se days would have no end. How can I tell of
the long, happy hours, when more than strength, when perfect
exhilaration, came to us; when existence alone was a delight? To sit
upon the low wheel-house, with wraps and ribbons and hair flying in the
wind, while we sang,--

"O, a life on the ocean wave!"

to admiring fishes; to watch the long, lazy swell of the sea, or the
spray breaking from the tops of the white caps into tiny rainbows; to
walk the rolling deck for hours with never a shadow of weariness; to
cling to the flag-staff when the stern of the ship rose in the air then
dropped like a heavy stone into the sea, sending the spray far over and
above us; to count the stars at night, watching the other gleaming
phosphorescent stars that seemed to have fallen from heaven upon the
long wake of the steamer,--all this was a delight unspeakable.

One morning, when the land seemed a forgotten dream, we awoke to find
green Erin close beside us. All the day before the sea-gulls had been
hovering over us--beautiful creatures, gray above and white beneath,
clouds with a silver lining. Tiny land birds, too, flew about us,
resting wearily upon the rigging. The sea all at once became like glass.
It seemed like the book of Revelation when the sun shone on it,--the sea
of glass mingled with fire. For a time the land was but a line of rock,
with martello towers perched upon the points. On the right, Fastnet Rock
rose out of the sea, crowned with a light-house; then the gray barren
shore of Cape Clear Island, and soon the sharp-pointed Stag Rocks. It is
a treacherous coast. "I've been here many a night," said the captain, as
he gave us his glass, "when I never expected to see morning." And all
the while he was speaking, the sea smiled and smiled, as though it could
never be cruel.

We drew nearer and nearer, until we could see the green fields bounded
by stone walls, the white, winding roads, and little villages nestling
among the hills. Towards noon the lovely harbor of Queenstown opened
before us, surrounded and almost shut in by rocky islands. Through the
glass we could see the city, with its feet in the bay. We were no longer
alone. The horizon was dotted with sails. Sometimes a steamer crossed
our wake, or a ship bore down upon us. We hoisted our signals. We dipped
our flag. The sailors were busy painting the boats, and polishing the
brass till it shone again. Now the tender steams out from Queenstown.
The steerage p