, 'Start
slow,' but I quickly had him increase the speed, for I'm used to
horseback riding."

"We're from Texas, you know," spoke up a young woman sitting close by.

"You should practice riding on the electric camel in preparation for our
trip into Egypt," I suggested.

"We have; we've tried all the arm and foot movements and have been
thumped on the back, and on the chest, and even on our heads," responded
the young woman. "But I wished for a rowing machine. Rowing is my
favorite exercise."

"Before we left home we all had many misgivings about this trip,"
remarked the elder sister. "We knew how large these steamships really
are, but yet we had visions of many possible discomforts during so long
a journey. We disliked tours in sleeping cars and couldn't realize the
difference between traveling in cars and in ships. But our stateroom
here is very cozy with the wardrobes and the racks for our books and our
pictures."

"And it seems homelike, too," added the other.

The life on shipboard was to many a novel experience. In the mornings we
were roused from our slumbers by the notes of a bugle. The first day
when the reveille sounded I looked at my watch. It was a quarter to
eight. "Must I get up?" I thought. Then remembering that the breakfast
hour was from eight to ten, I closed my eyes. But soon there came a
gentle tapping at the door. "Who's there?" I asked. "Your bath is ready,
sir." The words were English but the accents were plainly German. That
call was more imperative than the bugler's, for I might miss my
invigorating salt water dip if I did not quickly respond. After a
breakfast of fruit, cereals, chops, and coffee we went to the deck for a
tramp. "Ten rounds of the promenade deck make a mile," said my
room-mate consulting his pedometer. Then we strolled to the library for
books, but the books lay unread in our laps when we were seated in our
steamer chairs; for how could our minds be fixed on the story when the
real life before us was more interesting? The Professor who was to
lecture during the trip stepped by with rapid tread, nodding as he
passed. The minister from Iowa who was to preach on the Sabbath stopped
to exchange greetings, a friend dropped into a vacant chair for a talk.
Then the music stands were set up and the band assembled around them and
for an hour we listened to selections from Wagner and Bach, varied with
the martial strains of Sousa or the melodies of Foster. The stewards
brought out