264
refreshing as we get into warmer climates. I lost no opportunity of looking at Madeira through the glasses, and as we sailed half round it I was much amused. The weather was uncommonly mild; the pleasantest day we have had.
I have spent the time reading or thinking, or walking with Captain Moult. Poor fellow, he is very gloomy, and it is quite a charity to liven him up a little. I have, however, to tell him very often of his habit of swearing, which is one of the greatest drawbacks to his society,
It is now Saturday night. Here I am writing in the saloon, the ship rocking in a cross sea. We have had tea, and as usual I am spending the time from half past seven to nine in reading and writing. The time begins to go now more rapidly; yet it is poor work after a month's sailing to have got no further. I am often thinking as I write, of home, and Saturday night there. Often do I see the old shop, and Siss and mother busy behind the counter. Sometimes I get so lost in thought that I fancy I am really at home among you all.
I do however come home every night regularly to sleep either at Hythe, or Chudleigh, or Bridge. I get to bed, and in an instant I am back again to old England, I sometimes fancy it would make a curious medley, if I could write the substance of some of my dreams of home. It cheers one up, however, and takes off half the pain of separation. When I wake I have to take some few moments to make out where I am, and then when I open my eyes there are all the cluster of photographs before me, all seeming to look at me and sympathize with me in my solitude. I am thankful to say that my health fast improves. I hope soon to outgrow my clothes. Tomorrow I should very much like to spend a “Sunday at Home", instead of a “Sunday at Sea”.
Thursday, April 11th
We are still jogging along on our journey. Every day seems shorter than its predecessor, and the time begins to go, I don't know how fast. It is no sooner morning than night comes. The day passes away very pleasantly, and really I am now quite at home. In fact I am as much at home as ever I was in college, and should feel quite as happy if I could only hear from those who are continually before my thoughts.
Every day now grows warmer. The thermometer is now 75° in the
264
refreshing as we get into warmer climates. I lost no opportunity of looking at Madeira through the glasses, and as we sailed half round it I was much amused. The weather was uncommonly mild; the pleasantest day we have had.
I have spent the time reading or thinking, or walking with Captain Moult. Poor fellow, he is very gloomy, and it is quite a charity to liven him up a little. I have, however, to tell him very often of his habit of swearing, which is one of the greatest drawbacks to his society,
It is now Saturday night. Here I am writing in the saloon, the ship rocking in a cross sea. We have had tea, and as usual I am spending the time from half past seven to nine in reading and writing. The time begins to go now more rapidly; yet it is poor work after a month's sailing to have got no further. I am often thinking as I write, of home, and Saturday night there. Often do I see the old shop, and Siss and mother busy behind the counter. Sometimes I get so lost in thought that I fancy I am really at home among you all.
I do however come home every night regularly to sleep either at Hythe, or Chudleigh, or Bridge. I get to bed, and in an instant I am back again to old England, I sometimes fancy it would make a curious medley, if I could write the substance of some of my dreams of home. It cheers one up, however, and takes off half the pain of separation. When I wake I have to take some few moments to make out where I am, and then when I open my eyes there are all the cluster of photographs before me, all seeming to look at me and sympathize with me in my solitude. I am thankful to say that my health fast improves. I hope soon to outgrow my clothes. Tomorrow I should very much like to spend a “Sunday at Home", instead of a “Sunday at Sea".
Thursday, April 11th
We are still jogging along on our journey. Every day seems shorter than its predecessor, and the time begins to go, I don't know how fast. It is no sooner morning than night comes. The day passes away very pleasantly, and really I am now quite at home. In fact I am as much at home as ever I was in college, and should feel quite as happy if I could only hear from those who are continually before my thoughts.
Every day now grows warmer. The thermometer is now 75° in the
No comments yet.
Private notes are available after approval.