e do know, that the success of the "Children of Israel" in not
being "overtaken" has been the prototype of father to son in every
effort to do so from that day to the present. There is a serious view,
however. Here the sea, sky and neighborhood of Jerusalem, pyramids,
monuments and sacred traditions all conspire to have a solemn and
awe-inspiring effect. Thousands of generations of men have lived and
moved in the activities that engage modern humanity, but have passed
like fleeting shadows, leaving only these sentinels as perpetual
reminders. While the "Red Sea" sings in murmuring cadence that "men may
come, and men may go, but I go on forever," doubly impressing us that

"So the multitude goes, like the flower or weed,
That wither away to let others succeed;
So the multitude comes, even those we behold,
To repeat every tale that has often been told."

But a truce to moralizing on the past. The children of Israel seem to
have made and kept their record as "passengers." I was interested in the
passage of a child of Ham. I am somewhat deficient in Bible history, and
am without knowledge of the whereabouts of Ham's children at that time,
or whether they had "crossing" to do; but if they possessed the
proverbial character imputed to some of their offspring, antipathy to
water, especially for lavatory purposes, I am of the opinion they took
no desperate chances, "content to bear the ills they had than fly to
those they knew not of."

Passing Hurich Island, a British possession, and having had a very
pleasant passage on the Red Sea, we arrive at Djiboute, Abyssinia, the
terminus of King Menelik's domain, the scenes of recent conflict between
Italy and the King's forces, the "unpleasantness" resulting unprofitably
to the Italians. There were landed from the ship many boxes of rifles
and ammunition for the King's governor, who resides here. During the few
hours we remained there, we were interested in and enjoyed the gathering
of ten or fifteen native boys around the ship diving for centimes or
francs thrown by the passengers, their dexterity as divers, securing
every penny, was as clever as grotesque. They remained in the water six
or eight hours during the ship's stay. A few hours brought us to Aden, a
very strongly fortified appendage to the British Empire at the south end
of the Red Sea. For armament and strategical locality it is the
Gibraltar of the southern seas.

The rivalry of native boatmen for pas