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On the ninth day we are well south of Madeira. The sun is so warm at midday that an awning is hung over the deck, and the shade it affords is very grateful. We are now in the trade winds, which blow pretty steadily at this part of our course in a southwesterly direction, and may generally be depended upon until we near the equator. At midday of the tenth day I find we have run 180 miles in the last twenty-four hours, with the wind still steady on our quarter. We have passed Teneriffe, about 130 miles distant-too remote to see it, though I am told that, had we been twenty miles nearer, we should probably have seen the famous peak.

To while away the time, and by way of a little adventure, I determined at night to climb the mizzen mast with a fellow-passenger. While leaving the deck I was chalked by a middy, in token that I was in for my footing, so as to be free of the mizzen-top. I succeeded in reaching it safely, though, to a green hand as I was, it looks and really feels somewhat perilous at first. I was sensible of the feeling of fear or apprehension just at the moment of getting over the cross-trees. Your body hangs over in mid-air at a terrible incline backward, and you have to hold on like any thing for just one moment, until you get your knee up into the top. The view of the ship under press of canvas from the mizzen-top is very grand, and the phosphorescence in our wake, billow upon billow of light shining foam, seemed more brilliant than ever.

The wind again freshens, and on the eleventh day we make another fine run of 230 miles. It is becoming rapidly warmer, and we shall soon be in the region of bonitos, albatrosses, and flying fish-only a fortnight after leaving England!

Our second Sunday at sea was beautiful exceedingly.

We had service in the saloon as usual, and after church I climbed the mizzen, and had half an hour's nap on the top. Truly this warm weather and monotonous sea life seems very favorable for dreaming, and mooning, and loafing. In the evening there was some very good hymnsinging in the second-class cabin.

Early next morning, when pacing the poop, we were startled by the cry from a man on the forecastle of "Land ho!" I found, by the direction of the captain's eyes, that the land seen lay off our weather-beam. But, though I strained my eyes looking for the land, I could see nothing. It was not for hours that I could detect it, and then it looked more like a cloud than any thing else. At length the veil lifted, and I saw the land stretching away to the eastward. It was the island of San Antonio, one of the Cape de Verds.

As we neared the land, and saw it more distinctly, it looked a grand object. Though we were then some fifteen miles off, yet the highest peaks, which were above the clouds, some thousands of feet high, were so clear and so beautiful that they looked as if they had been stolen out of the "Arabian Nights," or some fairy tale of wonder and beauty.

The island is said to be alike famous for its oranges and pretty girls. Indeed the Major, who is very good at drawing the long bow, declared that he could see a very interesting female waving her hand to him from a rock! With the help of the telescope we could certainly see some of the houses on shore.

As this is the last land we are likely to see until we reach Australia, we regard it with all the greater interest, and I myself watched it in the twilight until it faded away into a blue mist on the horizon.

CHAPTER III.

WITHIN THE TROPICS.

Increase of Temperature.-Flying Fish.-The Morning Bath on board. -Paying my " Footing."-The Major's wonderful Story "capped."St. Patrick's Day.—Grampuses.—A Ship in Sight.-The “Lord Raglan."- Rainfall in the Tropics. - Tropical Sunsets. -The Yankee Whaler.

17th March. We are now fairly within the tropics. The heat increases day by day. This morning, at eight, the temperature was 87° in my cabin. At midday, with the sun nearly overhead, it is really hot. The sky is of a cloudless azure, with a hazy appearance toward the horizon. The sea is blue-dark, deep blue—and calm.

Now we see plenty of flying fish. Whole shoals of the glittering little things glide along in the air, skimming the tops of the waves. They rise to escape their pursuers, the bonitos, which rush after them, showing their noses above the water now and then. But the poor flying fish have their enemies above the waters as well as under them, for they no sooner rise than they risk becoming the prey of the ocean birds which are always hovering about and ready to pounce upon them. It is a case of "out of the frying-pan into the fire." They fly farther than I thought they could. I saw one of them to-day fly at least sixty yards, and sometimes they mount so high as to reach the poop, some fifteen feet from the surface of the water.

One of the most pleasant events of the day is the morning bath on board. You must remember the latitude we are in. We are passing along, though not in sight of, that part of the African coast where a necklace is considered full dress. We sympathize with the natives, for we find clothes becoming intolerable; hence our enjoyment of the morning bath, which consists in getting into a large tub on board, and being pumped upon by the hose. Pity that one can not have it later, as it leaves such a long interval between bath and breakfast; but it freshens one up wonderfully, and is an extremely pleasant operation. I only wish that the tub were twenty times as large, and the hose twice as strong.

The wind continues in our favor, though gradually subsiding. During the last two days we have run over 200 miles each day, but the captain says that by the time we reach the Line the wind will have completely died away. To catch a little of the breeze, I go up the rig ging to the top. Two sailors came up mysteriously, one on each side of the ratlines. They are terrible fellows for making one pay "footings," and their object was to intercept my retreat downward. When they reached me I tried to resist, but it was of no use. I must be tied to the rigging unless I promised the customary bottle of rum; so I gave in with a good grace, and was thenceforward free to take an airing aloft.

The amusements on deck do not vary much. Quoits, cards, reading, and talking, and sometimes a game of romps, such as "Walk, my lady, walk!" We have tried to form a committee, with a view to getting up some Penny Reading or theatrical entertainment, and to ascertain whether there be any latent talent aboard, but the

heat occasions such a languor as to be very unfavorable for work, and the committee lay upon their oars, doing nothing.

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One of our principal sources of amusement is the Major. He is unfailing. His drawings of the long bow are as good as a theatrical entertainment. If any one tells a story of something wonderful, he at once caps it," as they say in Yorkshire, by something still more wonderful. One of the passengers who had been at Calcutta, speaking of the heat there, said it was so great as to make the pitch run out of the ship's sides. "Bah!" said the Major," that is nothing to what it is in Ceylon; there the heat is so great as to melt the soldiers' buttons off on parade, and then their jackets all get loose."

It seems that to-day (the 17th) is St. Patrick's Day. This the Major, who is an Irishman, discovered only late in the evening, when he declared he would have “given a fiver" if he had only known it in the morning. But, to make up for lost time, he called out forthwith," Steward! whisky!" and he disposed of some seven or eight glasses in the saloon before the lamps were put out, after which he adjourned to one of the cabins, and there continued the celebration of St. Patrick's Day until about two o'clock in the morning. On getting up rather late, he said to himself, loud enough for me to overhear in my cabin, "Well, George, my boy, you've done your duty to St. Patrick, but he's left you a horrible bad headache!" And no wonder.

At last there is a promised novelty on board. Some original Christy's Minstrels are in rehearsal, and the theatrical committee are looking up amateurs for a farce. Readings from Dickens are also spoken of. An occa

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