ordered the ship's steam launch, and,
escorted by the Lieutenant, under our national banner, I soon boarded my
ship. I was much indebted to Capt. Rodgers and officers for their
charming courtesy.

Leaving Suez at mid-day, we shortly enter the Suez Canal--85 miles, with
numerous tie-ups to allow other ships the right of way.

At 8 o'clock the following morning we dropped anchor at Port Said, a
populous city of Arabia with 30,000 inhabitants, much diversified as to
nativities, Turks, Assyrians, Jews, and Greeks being largely
represented. The city is quite prepossessing, and seems to have improved
its sanitary features since my visit four years ago. There are many
charming views; an interesting place for the tourist, alike for the
virtuous and the vicious, for those so inclined can see human nature
"unadorned." Wide streets pierce the city, the stores on which are a
continuous bazaar, lined with many exquisite productions of necessity
and Eastern art. But I have previously dwelt on Port Said peculiarities.

Leaving Port Said on the 18th, our good ship soon enters the
Mediterranean, and with smooth seas passes through the Straits of
Messina, with a fine view of Mt. Etna, as of yore, belching forth flames
and smoke, with Sicily on our left and Italy and her cities on our
right. Again entering the Mediterranean, we encounter our first rough
seas and diminution of guests at the table. Neptune, who had been
lenient for 17 days, now demanded settlement before digestion should
again be allowed to resume its sway. For myself, I was like and unlike
the impecunious boarder, who "never missed a meal nor paid a cent," but
like him only in constant attendance, for I could ill-afford to miss any
part of the pleasure of transit or menu costing $10 a day--happy,
however, that I was minus "mal de mer," seasickness. But this temporary
ailment of the passengers was soon banished by another phase of ocean
travel, that of being enveloped in a fog so dense that the ship's length
could not be seen ahead from the bow--every officer of the ship alert,
the fog horn blowing its warnings at short intervals, answered by the
"ships that pass in the night" of fogs. The anxiety of the passengers
that the fog would lift was relieved after 36 hours, and our ship hied
away and reached Marseilles on the 23d. From there by rail to Paris.
Ensconced again at the "Hotel Binda," the next day I visited the site of
the great Paris Exposition. Few of the buildings