University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER 5

A Leaf from my notebook

June 26--Off at last! We came early to the vessel and were comfortably settled before we left Quebec. Our state rooms leave nothing to be desired. Ed says we have 1,910 passengers aboard; would be quite a large town in Oklahoma. Little book, do you think I'll often write on your nice white pages?

27th--Away out somewhere on the broad bosom of the St. Lawrence. We anchored at Rimouski[1] for twelve hours awaiting the mail. I am feeling a little queer; surely I am not to be ill on this placid river?

28th--Sunday, up at seven-thirty. I am feeling like a new person. Assisted at mass this morning at ten-thirty; now I am writing this in a sheltered nook away up stairs. It is very, very cold. We are passing the bleak coast of Labrador, and whales and icebergs are enchanting all of us. The sun shining on the wonderful masses of ice renders them like fairy castles. I am feeling very, very dizzy.

11 P.M. --My wife is very ill, but wishes this little book kept up. Sea a little rough. What should I put in here?

29th--Doctor here to see my wife; high fever; feed her chipped ice all the time! Phew! I am freezing; glad I am not obliged to eat this ice. Wish I had my winter clothes. Poor little woman, the sea is not kind to her.

30th--I am uneasy, wife very ill, begging to go home. This voyage not turning out well.

July 1st --Thank goodness. Wife is better, fever gone. Sea very smooth. Day very long, not dark at eleven and day at three. Always something doing, but I have been too much occupied to enjoy myself.

2nd--Hurrah! Wife much better. Land will surely complete the cure. Saw whales today, many porpoises and thousands of ducks. Heavy fog off north coast of Ireland; ship delayed several hours.

July 3rd--Wife spent miserable night, but the sight of land this morning helped her greatly. We are nearing Liverpool. I have my wife ready to leave. She is very weak, but insists upon leaving for London on the fast express at three-thirty. We land at one-thirty.

Good bye, old ocean; you are grand, but I know someone who does not love you.