Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, September 9, 1894, Page 10

The Sunshine and Shad with a Mixed C Dec ows of an Ocean Trip rowd Between ks. My Irederick it Burton (Copyrightcd, 1994 the Author.) had just lost sight of America when I de u discovery. It was my friend Parker He discovered me at the same moment hy He was leaning against a hatchway in a kind of negligee attitude, regarding his fellow passengers with an air of indifferent amuse- ment, altogether a superlor being, offensively superfor, 1 thought 1, on the contrary, was sitting on the deck, my knees up to my chin, a short pipe in my mouth (hought especially for the voyage —the pipe, I mean), and was scraping ac- quaintance with a young Lancashireman who was returning from his first tour in my coun- try. Parker scemed a rose and shook hands with him. “Hello, B.,” he said with a feeble attempt at cordiality, *“‘going acrose It was plain as day that he was not at all glad to see me, although that would not ex- cuse the absurdity of his question; so I has- tened to confess the truth, told him yes, I was going across, and by this very boat, too, the Cephalonia, Boston to Liverpool, August 4, and was, moreover, booked for the steer- age. “And so, old man,” 1 concluded, “you won't seo much of me until we get to the other bit embarrassed when I er In Manchester, and that ¥ every summer, Irela Seotland, was a hack dr he took a traveling holid He had been all over his own country and some portions of the nearby continent Ireland was the most beautitul country he had seen, “to his way o' thinkin ext summer he intends to visit Italy, cross: Could you tourist in the and he will mak: his journey, sav ing the channel, by bleycle find a more thorough-going saloon? “The waste on these steamers is horful” ho remarked; “when | were crossin' on the New York I seen a feller wi' a pot full o' cock-legged chickens, and ‘e were goin' to piteh the ‘ole bloomin’ lot overboard, ‘e were: Hit struck me t' heart, hit did, an’ [ gets in front of ‘im an' I says “T'd like t' see thee in a desert 50,000 miles from anyw'ere, 1 would an’ thee hungry an' thirsty,’ 1 says, ‘an’ if I saw thee there I'd no feed thee, but I'd just make out t' plague thee,’ I says. “An’ 1 told ‘im my mind, an' didn't give over till ‘e handed me six or seven chicken legs, an’ I ‘anded them around fo the poor ople on deck. 0, 1 were proper mad, I were." Presently this philanthropic tourist drew a huge seed cike from one pocket of is jacket and a book from the other and began to work at both. He offered me a pi the cake and later loaned me the 1 had read it W told Jerome Jerome's “Three Men Boat.” “I don’t Dbloomin' book. him K. in a think there's nothink in it,” he BREAKFAST, AN OPERATION FULL OF DIFFICULTY. side, for I shall keep my place, and not in- trude upon saloon passengers’ privileges.' “H'm,” said Parker thoughtfully, ‘so you're 'inf ‘the’ steerage. How does that happen? Well,” T answered, “this is a flying busi- ness trip, and It saves money to go by the “stesrage, you know. 1 suppose it surprises Parker reflected a minute. It {sn't 8o much that you are in the steer- age,” he remarked, “as that you're saving money; that's the surprising thing—but no matter. I suppose I'm in for it, and may as well own up. I'm In the steerage myself.” We both felt better after that, but we névertheless wasted some minutes in specu- . lation as to the probablility that among the . saloon passengers were some who would rec- " ognize us and pass remarks about us, a pe- cullarly fruifless discussion, for it was too _late to back out now, and moreover we had an immense advantage over the saloon in point of numbers, for there were 881 of us on board (o only seventy-five cabin passengers. ‘We were emphatically of the popular party, and we determined to make the best of it. And with that spirit, accompanied by good health, any man can have a good time in the . steerage, shutting his eyes (o certain dis- comforts and his nostrlls to certain others, taking things as they come, never complains ing, no matter how great the provocation may be, and never allowing himself to regret { the soft cushions and the burnished silver and the rich desserts of the first cabin. Atlantic passengers may be divided into three classes—immigrants, business men and tourist The mafority af the first class cross in the steerage, although they are to be found also +dn the intermediate quarters and in the sa- loon, but If in the latter they cease, t ch- nically, to be Immigrants; that Is, they do not have to pass muster at Ellis island, or ~eome In contact with the immigration com- misstoners of any port. Those who cross for business reasons are usually in the saloon, although there are occasionally instances of traders taking up with intermediate or even steerage accommo- dations. The tourlst we [nvariably associate with all the luxury that the steamer affords. He travels for health or pleasure, he is a man of means, of leisure, and we picture him with a cap on, half asleep over a novél ng chalr on the sacred upper | Ydu to find me here?" { [ is correct emough as far as it goes, but the steeruge has its tourists, and 1 am inclined to think that they numbired as many as the tourists of the saloon. In all seasons of every year there are people in the steerage who cross and recross wholly for plrasure or health They may not—generally do not—travel as far as their wealthy fellow passengers; their destination is usually some farming village or manufacturing city in the old country, be it England, Ireland or Scotland, where the father and ‘mother are still living, or where the father and mother go to look upon the graves of those they knew in childhood. We were lined up before the money ex- change window on the Cunard dock in East +Hoston. In front of me was a young man -wkD had $4 left after paying for his round trip. “It's costing me $26 to go over and back," Mo sald, “and it's worth it for the chance of seeing the mother.” “Aye, that it is assented a sad woman ho ‘stood by with a babe in her arms, 'when you have a mother to g0 to.” An ol man, very decrepit and bent, turned painfully ‘about and remarked slowly: “It cost me $10 (o go back for good, and [ consider it worth it for the privilege of dying on_the old sod.” This summer by far the largest part of steerage travel has bren of the tourist order. Most of the passengers on the Cephalonia had return tickets. Many were making their first visit to Europe, but the majority were Foturning to their birthplaces. A few were on their way back after a more or less extended tour in America. Among the latter wias the Lancashireman with whom 1 was talking when dizcovered by Parker. He was a medium-sized, red-faced man, who wore a cardigan jacket with capacious pockets and the most tremendous boots [ ever saw. He was very proud of the latter arti- cles, and proclalin:d confidently that “you couldu’t get anythink like th'm in Hameri- o He was probably right. Somebody asked him how long he b in America. “Four weeks." he replied. “Is that all?" was the next qu:ry, uttered | with considerable surprise. \ “Palu’t it long enough for a ‘oliday? weturned the Lancashireman spiritedly. He had scen New York, Providence and Noaton, and had put In a few days with an unele in Dover, N. H. He told me that he ad been .remarked candidly; “I've read that far and haven't found anythink interesting." “That far” was more than three-quarters way through the book. Perhaps that wasn't sn exhibition of a British trait. He had paid something for the book, it was a pirated edition, by the way, perhaps he knew the author was one of his own coun- trymen, and he ' had patiently plodded across page after page of what wis to him dry stuff in the hope of getting his money's worth, That was my first thought, but T was in- clined to change my mind after 1 had told him that an American would probsbly have thrown the book away if the first part of it was dull. ‘“That's not right,” he declared in that quiet earnest tone of the Britisher who knows it all; ““’ow could they tell that t' rest of t book was bad? I believe we ought U’ give t' author a chance.” Surely Mr. Jerome and the whole brother- hood of writers will call down blessings upon this independent, honest Lancashire- man. The Cephalonia left Boston at 11:30 a, m., and about two hours later the steerage pas- { sengers were served with dinner. The regular dinner hour {s earlier, a little before noon, but on this day there was de- lay, natural and incident to the conf of getting away. The laws of England provide for the sep- aration of steerage passengers into three classes: Single men, single women and married couples. Each of these classes has a sectlon of the ship to itself. On deck they may commingle freely, below stairs they are kept apart. The historian and his friend, Parker, were, of course, assigned to the single men's quarters, which on this trip were far for- ward under the forecastle. It was down two flights of stairs, gloomy in the daytime, but fairly * lighted by electricity ¥n the evening. Imagine a long, narrow room, broken by grated partitions, steep stairways, covered hatchways and supports for the upper deck. Along the center narrow tables and benches of plain wood, that may be folded up against tha roof when not in use, Opening out on both sides of the main room are several smaller rooms, with two tiers of bunks in each. The bunk is about as broad as an ordinary cot bed, and they are separated from one another by a board set on edge about eight inches high. The size of the sleeping rooms varies, growing smaller as the ship grows narrower, toward the prow. In the one occupled by the historian, which was the farthest forward, and therefore the smallest, there were four bunks in each sec tion of a tier, two sections to a tier; sleeping accommodations, ‘thereforg, for sixteen men in_the room. Unti) within a few months it was custom- ary to make the steerage passenger provide his own outfit; that is his bed, blanket and all table utensils. Al these are now provided by the Cunard company, and every passen- ger found his outfit in his bunk when he went on board. ‘There were a straw mattress, a blankét, a deep delftware plate, a tin cup holding a Benerous pint, a silverplated tablespoon and an iron knife and fork What more, surely, in the way of house- hold goods, should” anybody require for a ten-days' habitation. When we went down into the darkness that Saturday afternoon, hungry enough, as Parker said, “to_eat dog, but fearfui of belng overcome by the ‘close atmosphere, and honestly dreading the experience, we heard one of the stewards call out “Find your table fittings In your bunks, gentlemen, and hang on to them. Don't lose them." Parker looked at me with a sad smile, “I'm glad they let us keep our own plate and knife’ he sald with a grotesque at- tempt to be cheerful. There were several men in the crowded room who had evidently never traveled via steerage, for they were looking at the scene in_pathetic dismay. The experienced tourlsts fmmediately brought out their “fittings" from their re- spective bunks, and as many as could do 80 sat at the tables. The rest put their plates on shelves attached to the walls and st00d up, Parker and I were among the latter num- ber. The inexperienced few stood by motion- less. They didn't seem 1o be ambitious to eat Presently along came the stewards with huge pails full of soup. There was no formality about these stewards; they were in their shirt sleeves, and that fact consti- tuted the uniform; but they displayed an abundance of good nature, and an anxiou: desire that everybody should be bounti- tully supplied. They ladeled the soup into the tin cups, g THE OMAHA DAILY BEE, SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 1894 k and hovered about until every man had had all the soup he wanted. It was good soup. Thers was no mistaking that. It would have tasted good if we had been sitting at a white-covered table in a first-rate hotel. It tasted good in the gloomy, hot steerage. Next came boiled Again the supply was quality was good. Parker and the historian ate their potatoes without salt, but that was because they thought it was the rule to do so. There was plenty of salt on the tables, but they didn't happen to see any. They learned better after the dinner was over. “'Serape our leavings gentleme * called the steward who had charges of the arrangements; “there will be water here in a minute to wash your things Put them back in your bunks when you are done with them."” Parker’'s smile was absol ghastly at this. I pitied him sincerely He had al- ways had a good home, poor chap, with a doting mother and a cohort of protty sis- ters and cousins to wait on him and ‘“do" the dishes. He was still heroic, however, in his endeavors to take the thing cheerfully I'm glad they let us wash the dishes,” he said faintly; * it wouldn't be nice, you know, to eat supper off this plate and out of this cup, and from this spoon, and on this and fork if they were not washed.’ 11, we scrap our leavings and plunged our v > the tub of water that the steward down for the pur- pose. “1 feel beter, anyway,” said Parker as we climbed upstairs again; “the food was good, and the dishwashing I8 healthy. exer- clse,” “I feel better, anyway,’ ngers who ate tha the men who stood near me looking on did try a potato. The others went on deck un- fed, and if later they had anything by pri- vate arrangement with a steward [ do not Kknow it. I think not, for after a day or two I ob- served them taking their fare and washing their dishes with the rest of us, beet 1 bountitul; again potatoes. the into these tins, ely said Parker as dinner. One of Tea, the last meal of the day in the st , Is served at 5 o'clock. When we went down for it we found nine plates of butter on the tables and shelves Following the example of experienced tourists we went to our bunks and brought out our tin cups, the knife and the spoon. “No need of the plate,” said one of the passengers, “you'd only have to wash it again The stewards brought gigantie kettles of tea and filled the tin cups. Then they carried about baskets filled with bread in the form of ‘‘cob” loaves. 1 can speak with enthusiasm concorning the three articles that comprised that meal. The bread was surprisingly good, and it was even more surprising to find that the butter was palatable. The tea was good, be a strange kitchen that turned delicious bread and poor tea. I don't suppose [ can give better proof of the quality of the food than to confess that I ate two whole loaves of bread freely buttered, and drank two pints of tea This was the evening routine throughout the voyage, so far as [ was concerned. Parker ran a good second, but his appetite always was rather delicate Some of the passengers complained. No large company of men would be complete without its quota of growlers. This man thought the tea too sweet; an- other declared that there wasn't sugar enough; and of course we heard from the man to whom the tea was no better than slops 1t would seem impossible to with the bread, but it was done. was burned, it was too stale, etc Think of it; on that trip the ship's bakers were turning out 3,500 cob loaves every day! They had to bake ahead. It would have boen utteriy impracticable to serve fresh bread, but the kickers complained neverthe- less, They manifested their discontent by break- ing the loaves open, eating the soft inside and throwing away the entire crust, thus wasting at least two-thirds, and, to my taste, the best part of each loaf. After two days of this the chief steward gave orders that ne more bread should be issued in whole loaves to the steerage, It vas cut into_slices thereafter. The under stewards were remarkably patient in face of the unreasonable com- plaints and comments of the passengers. Do you know what that butter's fit for?" asked a growler arrogantly of Fred, the hardest working steward in the crew; “I'd just like it to grease the wheels of my wagon with.” “All right,” returned Fred, without look- ing up from the kettle he was scrubhing, “I'll see that you have a keg of it when you get back to Boston.” It was the only kind of answer that would fit the oceasion. The butter was not as good as that served in the saloon, but it was genuine and wholesome, and did not deserve the comparison to wheel grease. Steerage breakfast at 7:30 consisted of Irish stow, bread, butter and coffee, with oat- meal “porridge” and molasses on alternate days instead of the stew. While freely admitting the excellent g ity of the food, and while good-humoredly ignoring the unavoidable faults of the sery- fce and the irksomeness of dish washing, 1 will_as frankly confess that I would have likzd other kinds of breakfast and dinner be- fore the voyage was over. It was rather tiresome when the amusing novelty wore off. Parker votes with me in this matter, but what then? Here we were, two men in perfect health, neither of us in the lzast given to seasickness, who had paid $27 each for the round trip, America to Eng- land and back. It would have discredited good sense to permit ourselves to feel that we were endur- ing any privations, Even the Briton's desserts were not alto- gether lacking. There was duff occasionally, and again rice pudding or preserved apples, and now that I have eatén it, I think no traveler's experience Is complete without a knowledge of duff. It is a species of plum pudding that Is re- arkable for being not only palatable but digestible. It was the one article of food that the steerage passengers could not get enough of. They liked it. So did Parker and I “I say, F. R.,” said Parker one day shortly after dinner. “Well, Henry, “I've a scheme,” said he. “I'm with you,” sald L. He thereupon condueted me along the main deck until we came to the doors of the Kitchens. I b:lieve that sailor men cqll them galleys, but whatever the name, they were rooms lined with great ranges at which white-capped men were cooking dellcacics for the saloon passengers Doors and windows were open, and out cam: the appetizing aroma of roast fowl, hot rolls, berry ples and heaps of oth:r good things. It was no gusty whiff such as may be Dblown up at you through a grating in a sidewalk near a blg hotel, but a steady wave of culinary incemse almost nutritious in its deusity. Parker inhaled a long breath through his nostrils. “Isn’t it fine?” said he, “H'm, h'm,” I repli:d, followi his exam- ple, but not yet gathering the full force of his scheme. “Take another sniff of it,” he exclaimed; ‘It doesn’t cost anything.' I sniffed as he bade me, and then the scheme dawned upon me in all its utilitarian beauty There 1 stood and smelled choice, impossi- ble viands without a particle of aching de- sire to sit at a table and get at "em, “'You see,” explained Parker, “‘your stom- ach is satisfied in a gross sense. You want nothing more to eal, but In the steerage they falled to cater to the artistic side of your gastronomical nature. “Now that's an important element in the makeup of a well-bred man. I believe that the constant taking of coarse food would tend to dobase a man, unless.in some way his finer senses were gratified at the same time. “But, theories aside, we know this: that it we had come along here before going to the steerage dinner, we should not have en- Joyed our boiled beef and potatoes, even had we been able to eat them. Now having eaten them, we can sniff the delicacles of our friends, the upper ten, not only without Qis- comfort and envy, but with positive enjoy- me: “Why, man alive, It's just as it we had eaten, or were eating a six-course dinner! Parker was right. It was a charming and fmportant discovery that he made. Three times a day thereafter we went to the cook’s galleys and sniffed, and felt the better for it 1 cheerfully recommend this practice to would out of course, It find fauit The crust Y thase steerage Dastengers who have seen bet- | tor days. It was the wl somebody in our of nightmare 0 a furious attac Parker was in the upper tler across the ai om me, and the agonized groans came #¢pn his direction I sat up inOAMSm, but I fay down when I heard Parker muttering What a racket!" “‘Better walftp hm up.’ get him out o h\?‘n.{:\‘ny.' Parker Is a warm-hearted fellow. It him to sec apy fellpw creature suffer as in this 1:('(‘1-1’7.} to hear him. So he reached over & #ive his neighbor a violent dig In the ribssand said “HI, therely, iy that you put on when you want your to understand that you are taking pains possible to wake them without ing them. “What in thund the nelghbor, while its rampage. “Oh! I beg pardon gain Whew! 1 sugges| “and hurts or, tone that associates all the Adisturb- aspirated do’you want?" growled the nightmare kept up whispered Parker, and STEERAGE | Maguinness. Find erted in the main toward people who had been strangers until the sailing of the boat. It was one of these little women who came pottering up to one of the stalrways that led to the single men's quarters on Sunday morning, August 5 She had a bowl of hot coffee in her hand. At the en trance she hesitated 0, dear,” she exclaimed aloud, “I suppose I bhaven't any right to go doww there at this time of day. Say," and she turned to Parker, “you'ro not sick. You take this down to my father, please. His name's him and tell him he must drink Make him take at least half of it.” Parker graclously took the bowl of coffee and gingerly made his way down the steep stairs. 1 tagged along behind. At thé bottom he shouted “Maguinness! O, Maguinness owned the name, and he went from room to _room, vainly seeking to administer re Uef to the father of a little woman with four children in the after steerage. At last he gave it up and returned to the deck. The little woman had disap- peared. After several minutes, during it No one TYPES his voice treimble with chagrin, got bad dreams, and 1 thought it was you. Give the next man a shake, won't you. He's probably the one.™ Wide awake and irritated by that fact and the Dblood-curdling groans of the sufferer, the neighbor half rose and hustled the next man out of his slumbers. “‘Wake up and shut up, confound yo erled, in anything but low tones. The nightmare at that moment quivering shriek, while the last man to be aroused on telon of bewng the sufferer protested in language profane and emphatic, and Parker exclaimed, “Oh, dear! he's in the lower tier!" Then we all afit‘up and shouted, “Hi! hi! and some werd making ready to crawl d and poke everybod$”in the tier below wi the nightmar: ‘oxpired with a choking gurgle, and we heard'the #hifferer turn over with a sigh and drop ‘{nto & peaceful sleep, the only man among us’ who ‘had not been in the least disturbed by the proczedings. Parker's nelghbofs growled about the pains some pgople 'were at to.mind other people’s business, atid 1 lay back and laughed il my sides detied. Park>r sald next morning that that was the worst of ft;'to hear me chuckling while he was blushing in'the night with mortifica- tion, and none with eyes to see him do it i I could h *“somebody’ he became a During the fog ‘of Tuesday, August 7, there was a Iifle dpisode that was thrilling In its suggestiventss of the perils of the sea and of the rare skill ard attention to duty by which they 'aré" avoided. We were on the Grand banks’ Where, as eyerybody knows, rhany hindreds“of fisling craft are at work at all seasons of the year. They are scattéred over an immense ter- ritory; there is room enough for all the fleets in the world to cruise about at the same time in perfect safety when the weather is clear, but when that impalpable, white, opaque veil rests upon the water, when the vision is arrested 100 yards from the ship's rail and your steamer covers hun- dreds of miles without coming to a break in the mist, then the possibility of collision | becomes too clear to need demonstration. Directly in your course, a half mile away, there may be a Gloucester schooner, or a Nova Scotia fis] ‘man at anchor. chances are, so great is the area of the banks, that the course s clear; but the ever present possibility of danger keeps the cap- tain on the bridge for as long as the fog lasts, be it seventy-two hours in succession. That possibility developed into the actual on Tuesday. Tt was all over in a minute. This is how it appeared.from the point of view of the steerage . The masts and spars of a vessel came sud- Qentv into view just off the port bow; we crowded to the rail and saw brlow Us a brig at anchor, several men running wildly about her de other men in two small boats a rod or two from her sides. One could easily have tossed a biscuit from the deck of the Cephalonia to that of the brig, and it looked every second as if the brig's fibboom would scrape the frown- ing hull of the steamer. There was no contact, however, and another minute brig and small boats sunk away in the mist astern. It was a French vessel, and as we passed her the fishermen shook their fists at the steamer, gesticulated flercely and cursed to the full extent of their native vocabulary. Thay were frantic with excitement, and no wonder. but it was not easy to under- stand why they should have been at such trouble to curse a steamer that had not run them down, This event was the general tople of con- versation during the rest of the day. It was spoken of in the steerage without the least trace of excitement. It was interesting; the Frenchman had a narrow shave; it was laughable to see him jumping about and raving, but he probably had good -reason for being fright- ened. That was all Not one word, not one hint that any credit was due to Captain Seccombe. and his offi- cers for averting a disastrous calamity. I listened in vain for any commendation of the faithful, arduous watch kept up on the bridge. Well, perhaps my fellow passengers were right. The Cephalonia, to begin with, had not been in darger. < The frail, ili-kept Frenchman wofld ‘have been but- a card house had we, Strd¥ her. “The crew might have been saveld! peraps not; but why s late? That safie ffiflomitable, indefatigable faithftuiness that’ makes the Atlantic voyage S0 safe that piséenewers bank upon it with indifference as’ts fog' und gales, had carried us past instead'tf fito the brig; and I pre- sume that the“‘ep{sbde was properly dis- missed in the ‘ghi's log with a two-line statement o And yet it was fiferesting to me to learn from one of tht’ bMeers who stood on the bridge at the t{ife’that the Frenchman lay direetly in our C8lrs¥. When first her pres- ence was suggésted’ by faint, dark spots in the mist, she wiif “fqur or five boat lengths ahead." ghdd d o I have referréd@ to“the crowd of steerage passengers on 'ttre Cephalonia as fascinat- ing. The fasbination grew as the days passed, and it would take a volume to set forth fully the”urowd’s various phases and the human touches qf individuals that stood out against the mass like a contadina's red dress on a hiliside=" That contemptible spec.men who Is so often in evidenge on trains and excursion boats, the human hog, was not among us. On the contrary, there was a refreshing number of those energetic people who go bustling about doing for others. They were especially up and alive Quring the sick season. Men who themselves had occasionally to make a break for the rail were bringing lemonade and tea to dis- tressed women and patently helping feeble old men to a comfortable place in the lee of a hatch, and imperious little women trotted up and down stairs in all de- partments of the steerage bearing gruel, shawls and all the comforts of a cheerful disposition to those who wished the sea would swallow them up and have done with it in had had And this manner of philanthopy was ex- The | which T could see that Parker was getting exasperated and embarrassed, he found her soothing a sick stranger's baby. “Did he drink it?” she asked, bright smile, “I am sorry to say I didn’t find him," re- plied Parker 0, dear,” cried the little 80 right back and try again. there. Make him drink it.” There was no disobeying that. command. The little woman w etting such a good example that anybody would have been shamed out of retusing, and Parker turned despairingly again toward the forecastle. Suddenly she ran after him. Never mind,” she said, “here he is. It provéd that Mr. Maguinness had been sunning himself for an hour not twen‘y feet from where his daughter stood. S0 that little episode was in a sense a flasco, but the Lv;fi‘lmuus and the energy were of the right nd. The world will wag to the end of time In the little woman's way. says Geoge Osgood's song, and if it wagged in the way of that little woman in the steer- age we would all be the better for it. with a woman, “do He -must be “Does the boat stop at night or does it 8o along slow?" asked a passenger, as we leaned over the rail watching Boston light diseppear in the west. He told me he was 20 years old and was making his first trip to the land his father had told him about. “I don't expect we'll get too much food,’” he said, “but I'm prepared for that. I've 8ot two hig loaves of wheat bread, two cakes and three dozen cookles in my bag.” Many and many another steerage passen- ger had made similar preparation. One boy, a Swede, had a hamper that might have lasted him the entire trip. I am not so sure this is not a good plan, During the first day or two those who are inclined to seasickness may find it more comfortable to lunch on deck from boiled eggs and cold tea than to try to eat in the close rooms below. “Are there paddlewheels or screws down there?" asked an old man as we stood far forward on the forecastle top. I tried to explain that the single serew by wl‘!ivh the ship was driven was at the after en “Then,” he sald, “what makes the water 1p and foam so at each side?” Another passenger asked me, “Who dis- covered this line?” T found that he meant the Cunard line, and that to him implied a specific pathway across the ocean. He told me that it puzzled him to know how the captain kept the boat in the line, the water looked to him just the same day after day. Still another asked me if I knew just how far it was from the boat to the place where the sky and water met. I answered that I supposed it might be a few miles, “Ye: he assented, dublously,” but it V\)’mxl‘l be still further away when you got there. ‘I understand that, but I've often won- dered if any man has ever yet found out exactly how far it is to the real place where the sky and water meet.” cu About 300 passengers left the steamer at Queenstown, a much smaller number than many of us had expected. The tendler took them off at 7 a. m. without special inci- dent. [ observed that the girls who had been 8o lively all along, and so desperately smitten, apparently, with lovesickness, were very suh- dued, not to say somber, as they walked down the plank. Their fellows were going on to Liverpool and the parting caused just a bit of heart- ache, but, bless your soul, that happens in every voyage; the saloon passengers are as sentimentally ‘affected as those in the second cabin or the steerage, though they may not show it quite so openly and honestly. But they all forget about it after a few hours on land. The complaint is no more dangerous than the other form -of seasickness, and it's far more agreeable for sufferers and observers alike. The historian returned to America by the Umbria, which left Liverpool, Saturday even- ing, August 18, In order to make the steerage experlence complete he allowed himself to be captured by the runmer of an emigrant's lodging house. It is almost always necessary for steerage passengers to arrive in Liverpool the night before sailing, for the steamship companies compel them to embark at an early hour. In this instance the Umbria did not leave her an- chorage In the Mersey until 3 p. m., but the steerage passengers had to go aboard at 10 a, m. By this early embarkation much of the confusion attendant upon the departure of a steamer from America is avoided. Mistakes are corrected, lost baggae found, and every- body and everything are settled into some- thing like order before the saloon passen- gers arrive, which is about § p. m. There were only 136 of us on the home- ward trip. First-class tourists had begun to return, and they filled the Umbria as she had not been filled for years. They num- bered 532, and in the second eabin there were ninety-th It may not be generally known that steerage department is flexible. Space that night be given to it is readily turned into staterooms when the tide of high-priced travel i» hig It ‘means a lot of carpenter and joiner work, and the installation of expensive '‘fit- tings'" In place of the bare floors and sleep- ing racks; but all that may be done while the steamer is lying in port between arrival and sailing, and when finished the extra staterooms are every bit as good as those that stand the year round 8o the steerage for thig pressed; 136, was all it would hold. Many more wanted to go, but were refused, and they doubtless had to put in a week at the lodging houses The runner who picked me up as I was idling the time away in the steerage ofice in Liverpool on Friday afternoon was one of the trip was eom- f number of brothers who, in partnership With his father, conduct the oldest emigrant lodging house In the city They perform the same functions for the modest traveler that are done by the well | known agents for the saloon passenger. They get the emigrant's ticket for him | thus securing him by thefr experlence from errors, put him up at night and feed him in the morning, see him and his family and his baggage on board and properly bestowed, and In every imaginable way act as guardians to him during the nervous hours just previous to departure. The charges arc very low for this service, and the house where 1 lodged was scrupu- | lously clean. Every lodger was required to be in before 11 o'clock, with the purpose probably of preventing the all-night spree that sometimes characterizes a traveler's last night on land—and this feature, by the way, is not confined to the steerage. Should any reader have occasion tg patron- n_emigrant's lodging house fn any port would be well for him to make inquiries the steerage office of a steamship com- | pany. By so doing he will the more likely find a clean bed and honest {reatment Nearly all the steerage passengers on the Umbria were tourists on their way hom There were a few English emigrants, and a very few Irish girls, who got on at Queens- town, who had never seen Amerlea rest had been visiting, and, as a whole, they were a prosperous looking, contented lot They were pretty sick for two days, for we started against a high head wind that sent the spray on deck and kept the mighty vessel rolling, and made breakfast an opera- tion full of difculty for such as cared attempt to eat I sincerely pity any one who Is seasick, but I am equally sincere in my doubt whether the passenger is more distressed for being in the steerage. It looks to me as If elegantly upholstere lounges and porcelajn basins are no more to the comfort of the sufferer than of rope and a lee rail; any place to lie down and die in is as good as the best berth on board, and as for food, why, the steerage porridges or Irish stew is not a bit worse than a Delmonico menu—it's all one to the afllicted. The s lasted but two less once passed, and it the time went by quickly enough. The steerage tourists com- pared notes and exchanged impressions of the old countries that they had visited. “It's well enough to Cross over now The | and | | and that sort of thing. The fandamental it flculty of all such things (s that you try to hold yourself firmly in one place. It is a8 it a ship In u gale should tie up to & post, sup- posing midocean had posts for the time belng, instvad of driving before the tempest. The first cyclone that summer, of course, I went down cellar, like other folks. My house was s00n blown away. The next (hing I knew the cellar went, too, rolling over and over lke a silk hat. ‘1 was soon spilled out. With in- finite labor I crawled back in the teeth of the wind, intending to take refuge In the hole the cellar came out of. To my consters nation I found that had blown away also, I then followed the cxample of the. rooster, clung to a root and allowed my legs to flutter nd snap in the gale like a weather signal flag.' - - DANIEL WEBSTER WROTE IT. I Text of a Poem Written by the Great Orate File Clerk Walter Frer representatives, a Bostonlan, who has one of the most extensive and interesting eol- lections of newspaper clippings of any private collector in Washingten, referring ta the poem of Daniel Webster which has lately been published as a miscellaneous €lipping credited to a Chicago paper, says the four stanzas published do not comprise the poem In its comlete form To a Washington Post the poem In full, as follows My son, thou wast my heart's delight hy morn of life was gay and cheery; Thy morn has rushed to sudden night, Thy father's house is sad and dreary. 1 held the 1 kissed weepin But, ah, thy Thou'rt h of the house of reporter he gave n my knee, my thee laughing, son Kiksed thee little day is done with thy angel sister sloeping. The staff on which my Is broken ecre those My funcral rites thou ut thou art in the years should lean years come o'er m shouldst have seen, tomb before me. Thou rear'st to me no funeral stone, t's grave with t beholdest; t my ancestor d'st in son account the On_earth my lot was s t cast, cossor past, ¢ eternity s thine. 1 should b | . The road t But thou ve set 1 h nntaught And leav'st thy e fore thine eyes n and showed it clear; spring’st o the skies cher” lingering here, again for a visit, but America's the place to | live in," sald one, and in this verdict he seemed to sum up the opinions of his fel- low travelers. The one incident in which steerage life on the westward trip varies from the trip ea ward Is the nation of the passengers. This is required by American law, although the ship's surgeon has no authorily to com- pel the passengers to submit to the opera- tion. This function was performed on the U bria between 10 and 11 o'clock in the morn- ing of Wednesday. All the steerage passen- gers were sent be whenze they Issued to the open decks again one at a time. As they passed the surgeon they displayed thefr arms. If vaceination marks were fresh, or there was evidence that they ha had smallpox, they went on upstairs. It not they were detained and vacelnated. The operation was required in only half a dozen cases, and none of them objected. It was noticeable that the older women in the company had been vaccinated like men, on the arm, and the younger women on the leg Cunard officers n- tell with huge relish of one passenger who was very nervous con cerning vaccination. He was sure it wonld be painful and injurious, but in view of the fact that i he did not submit to the doctor he would b delayed in landing at New York, he consented to wMlergo the operation on board. He bared his arm and took his place in line, but he trembled so violently that It was' impcssible for the surgeon to avoid scratching him a little deeper than ordinary. The man’s arm bled a bit and he was ter- ribly alarmed. He was sure he was going to_ die. “I shall bleed to death!” he cried, while the tears coursed down his cheeks and his volce choked with sobs, *‘and if 1 do I'll sue the Cunard company for damages!”’ I find in reviewing these pages, written partly at sea, partly (n England, partly in America, that I have given a somewhat iight coloring to stecrage life. This was inevitable, are seldom sorrowful. Gathered together in large numbers by the accident of travel, they will certainly create incidents of the lighter order, and it is incident that the writer seeks to employ his pen with. For a dismal narration it would be neces- sary to dwell upon the long stretches of heurs when the ship flounders with monoton- ous instability along the dreary, watery plane, unbroken save by the same, same and ever the same recurring caps of foam; when a _day seems to drag its length between the striking of the half-hourly bells on the bridge forward; when the night becomes an infinite hell of labor with the fretful creak- ing and the greaning of the wo-dwork and the restless throbbing of the engines. Such periods there are in abundance, and the force with which they oppress the spirit of the steerage passenger varies according to his temperament and his resources for self- entertainment. 1 need not say that mo hour was dull to me, for every moment of the entire voyage was full of occupation, and in that respect 1 was exceptionally situated. I had come to observe and the field was wonderfully rich. For more than a week each way my sub- Jects were before me, with me, I was of them, and they could not give me the slip, and with that manner of occupation, which is open to all men, the privations of steer- age travel are, after all, properly summed up by the barber in his sympatby for the lack of desserts, But 1 would not recommend anybody to travel in the steerage who cannot speed time with human study. e RIDING OUT A GALE. Pecple in the mass Jones Retalls What He Calls an Exp ri- ence, Jackson Peters leaned back in his chair and slowly blew a cloud of smoke toward the celling, says Harper's Weekly. “Jones,” he said, “1 want to ask your opinion in regard to the probability of a story which was told me the other day.” “Well, Jackson?' was the guarded reply of the cautious Jones. “It struck me,” continued Peters, “that a man who had told as many—that is to say, a man who has told as much of what I may call awe-inspiring truth as you have ought to be a good judge of the probability of a story. It was a cyclone story which I was golng to ask you about.” ““Most cyclone stories are Jackson, “No doubt. palpable lies, The point is this: He he had seen we driven through boards by the force of the wind." “It never happened, Jackso stock lle told of every cyclone that blows. Your friend imposed upon your youth, my boy. He would never have dared to tell such a manifest and self-heralded lie to Robin or Smith. I must admit, though, that the force of the wind in a genuine cyclone is con- siderable. When I lived in Kansas in the 108 I had a quantity of poultry, but it was blown away in the first cyclone of the season, except a-black Spanish rooster. He clung to a grass root with his bill and allowed his tail to crack and whip in the wind like a. yacht pen- nant, He rode out the gale, though most of his feathers were blown off. Subsequently 1 found some of them embedded over half an inch in my grindstone “Yes," returned Peters, “I presume my was trying to impose on my adoles- sald inch That is a friend cence. “I think so, Jackson. I had considerable experie with cyclones that summer Kansas, but I learned to handle myself so that I did not mind them much. 1 soon saw the fallacy of depending on cyclone ce EXACT SIZE sale by all First Class Dealers. F. R, RICE the | Sweet seraph, T would learn of thee And hasten to partake thy bliss; And, O, to thy world welcome me As first 1 welcomed thee to this. Dear angel, No pra let th: Who oft thou art safe in for thee need me prayers for those be given have blessed thy infant head Ty 0, My father, 1 led thy Before me My I beheld thee born: ring steps with care; n to heaven's bright morn, v father, guide me the il hebly o POKER RULES DIDN'T WORK, AG 0 Which On upper Broadway there Is a shoe stor in the window of which there are some g | ple shoes, relates the New York World. On the top of one pair is a large card, on which three new §1 bills displayed. Below the bill is printed: *“Three of a kind take I Yesterday a tough looking westerner, after zing for a long time on the bills, the cara d the shoes stepped into the store and way by a smiling clerk. ay, mister, is this a straight game ys Eivin' us?” “You refer to—" “I'm_referrin’ to them shoes in the win- der. You sell them ‘cordin’ to the rules of poker, do you?’ “Oh, yes yes, sir. Quite so, sir, ha! ha! Rather clever hing, isn’t it? Hal ha!" “D—— clever. Show me a pair of number nines, that style. The gentleman produced several pairs o7 nines and the western man tried them .on. He selected two pairs and said he would take both, “Now, see shenanigan. eh?" ¢ “Yessir, we guarantee that. | advantage of an old hand like you. evidently know the game.' “I do, sonny, and I want nothin’ but what’s ‘cordin’ to the rules. [ want a straight game with no looloos. Savey?" “Yessir certainly, sir.” “Well, then, wrap up them shoes, and there's your $3.”" *But every one pair goes for $3. Look at | the card. Three of a kind, you know, take a pair.” “I Know here," he said, *“I want, no You're sellin’ ‘eordin’ to Hoyle, Couldn’t tak Yor two pair of they do, but we're playin’ by the rules, an’ ‘cordin’ to all the rules of poker I ever see, three of a kind, also, just nat- churely and etarnely, scoop two pair.’ The clerk ceased to smile for a moment but_suddenly recovered himself. “'Yessir, but three of a kind wouldn't seop o pair when both pair are nines, would y 2" “Well, I'll be—. Gosh ain’t right! T thought I was workin' a smart game on you, but I'm a jay. I should bave took a pair of eights and a pair of nines, and then I would have had you, darn you. Well, so long; you city fellers are =marter than you look, an’ kin always squirm out o' a deal somehow e PERILS OF A RED NECKTIE, A Cross and Restless Baby Makes a Grab for It The perils of a man with a red necktie are many and unexpected, says the New York Herald. Quite fmnocent of these, a gentle- man boarded the down town “L' train at Elghty-first street one day last week, took a cross seat and began running over the stock reports in his favorite newspaper. He wore the loveliest red tie you ever saw and had it spiked down with a diamond pin. Between him and the window sat a young mother with a very young baby, and just opposite was her feminine friend, the pair monop- olizing the windows, as women will some- times do. The baby grew weary of trying to follow flying objects outside, and gre restless and cross at the same time. Finally it saw the red necktie and made a grab for it. You know how very young bables can jump. Well, this one not only grabbed for the red necktfe, but it got it the first pop The gentleman with the attractive neck- wear was somewhat startled at this on- slaught, but when he realized what it was and heard the young mother's abject apolo- gles be smiled a sickly smile and resumed his reading But the attempt to draw the child's at- tention to other things was a dismal failure. He saw only that red tie, and, like a young bull in a cornfleld, he wanted to go for it. In the meantime the other passengers were indulging in tittering comments, and the man with the red tie soon got a face up to match. At last the baby broke into a shrill scream and clutched wildly at the red necktle. The mother tried her best to soothe her infant, but without success. At Twenty-third street she turncd abruptly fo the gentleman with the red necktie and sald, with considerable acerbity “I do wish you'd get off, sir! to get off or give him that thing. anything with him." 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