ller; anybody could see that he was a traveller, and if
he had then been in any part of the habitable globe, in Scotland or
Tartary, Peru or Pennsylvania, there would not have been the least doubt
about the fact that he was a traveller travelling on his travels. He
looked like a traveller, and was dressed like a traveller. He had a
travelling-cap, a travelling-coat, a portable-desk, a life-preserver, a
water-proof blanket, a travelling-shirt, a travelling green leather
satchel strapped across his shoulder, a Minie-rifle, several trunks
adorned with geographical railway labels of all colors and languages,
cork-soled boots, a pocket-compass, and a hand-organ. As for the
hand-organ, that was an accident in his outfit. The hand-organ was a
present for a little boy on the other side of the ocean; but nevertheless,
it played its part very pleasantly in the cabin of the "Balaklava." And
now let me observe here, that when we left Halifax in the schooner, I was
scarcely less feeble than when I left New York. I mention it to show how
speedily "roughing it" on the salt water will bring one's stomach to its
senses.

The "Balaklava" was a fore-and-aft schooner in ballast, and very little
ballast at that; easily handled; painted black outside, and pink inside;
as staunch a craft as ever shook sail; very obedient to the rudder; of
some seventy or eighty tons burden; clean and neat everywhere, except in
the cabin. As for her commander, he was a fine gentleman; true, honest,
brave, modest, prudent and courteous. Sincerely polite, for if politeness
be only kindness mixed with refinement, then Captain Capstan was polite,
as we understand it. The mate of the schooner was a cannie Scot; by name,
Robert, Fitzjames, Buchanan, Wallace, Burns, Bruce; and Bruce was as jolly
a first-mate as ever sailed under the cross-bones of the British flag. The
crew was composed of four Newfoundland sailor men; and the cook, whose
h'eighth letter of the h'alphabet smacked somewhat strongly of H'albion.
As for the rest, there was Mrs. Captain Capstan, Captain and Mrs. Captain
Capstan's baby; Picton and myself. It is cruel to speak of a baby, except
in terms of endearment and affection, and therefore I could not but
condemn Picton, who would sometimes, in his position as a traveller,
allude to baby in language of most emphatic character. The fact is, Picton
_swore_ at that baby! Baby was in feeble health and would sometimes bewail
its fate as if the cabin of the