Holmes County Republican. [volume] (Millersburg, Holmes Co., O. [Ohio]) 1870-1895, 1873-01-16

lntO "cdTdNdls VI uTdyS anu cApiess
wagons that extended out of sight;
were blockaded and halted, till, out Of
almost all hope of reaching the Steam
er's pier in time, we were going up the
gangway, having passed through New
York and yet not having seen it.
Our Steamship, the Atlantic, of the
"White Star Line" is 437 feet long, has
seen years service, and carries the U {.
S. Mail to Europe and the East. We
take hasty survey, and then go on
deck to take final farewell, as the
time of leaving is announced by the
watch-bell and the rough-toned whistle.
On every hand are men and women.
They crowd the deck, they crowd the
pier. In this final, special moment, We
met unexpected friends, and tender joy
and tender sorrow swept our souls.
Until the pier and Its crowd of human
beings became an undistinguished speck,
We watched its fading outlines, from the
uCSh. ~ d quai tCi UCiViC hooh VIC
sailed. All was interest in the Bay and
out through Sandy Hook, till the, to us,
first ocean-evening closed that day and
shut America out of sight.
There are 305 steerage passengers and
6G cabin passengers on board. With
these our associations, for dozen or
less days, must be. Who is who? By
and by we know. The captain, he is
captain, short, and not the most educa-
ted of men. Paul du Chaillu, the Af-'
rican explorer, Gorilla hunter and lee
turer, is social, all energy and life, and
yet, not on account of self-conceit, but
by his wide reputation, he is Paul du
Chaillu, though he does not try to make
one feel so. Mr.. Knapp, missionary
in Spain, is courteous, liberal, decided,
aithful. Americans stand up for the
United States, and Englishmen, for
Great Britain. Two-thirds of the cabin
passengers play cards, three-fourths of
them drink wine. Our judgment is
that these men have not been made bet
ter by these things.
We are coming into new experiences.
No land in sight! Our limits is rim
formed by the waters on the distant,
dark horizon, and filled with hotches
changing as the waters surge to and
hither. 1t is calm, and the ocean seems
a black prairie full of little mounds all
moving up and down among each other.
Fine. just beyond yon rim of waters,
it seems, are the homes of those know,
and could l climb aloft might see those
homes lights, over the watery edge.
Monday is stormy, Tuesday is stormiest,
and the ocean seems like the surface of
Holmes county, were that surface all
ago. The sides of the waves towards
the winds are all covered with white
foam, and as the waves roll up, the foam
is blown off the ridged crests into pear
ly, circling spray. But the ship rocks,
and pitches! All, yes! "This is miser-
able" we say, as we keep our berths for
days, or walk, with most untrusty eff
fort, in search of pure air and strength.
We will never make fun of sea-sickness
again.
But we have fine day and night or
two, after five days of dismal existence.
And now at eve, under the bright re-
Election of the moon, the path of the
ship is over glinting, silver sea. Hearts
that were depressed are glad. Mourn
ful, dull voices of the past few days,
ring out in joyous laughter, now. Oh,
it is like some sunny land of song! UpI
by the smoke-stack, near the rigging,
stand, drinking in the scene, and hum
ming childhOOd's hymn of praise.
The second Sabbath at sea, with its
floating congregation and impressive
services passes. Monday dawns, foggy
and misty with land winds from some
where. In the afternoon dark peak of
cloud appears. No, it is land, though
most unlike it. Nine days at sea, and
land i'm sight. Hurra. Land of our
forefathers, hail!
At midnight, Monday, we enter the
beautiful harbor of Cork, and anchor
ing between two headlands, the mails
for Europe, and the passengers for
Queenstown are put into Il steam tug
and carried up to the Irish City whose
lights twinkle on the hillside.
This beautiful mOOnlit midnight CLASSY
sea and distant lit-up city is an en-
chanting picture.
Tuesday is windy, on the Irish sea,
the sails are all hauled in as they were
over most the Atlantic, we are too late
for the tide into the Mersey, and so, on
tomorrow, we enter Liverpool. In ten
days and twenty hours we shall have
crossed the Atlantic. With glad feel
ings we shall set our feet on land again.
LEMON L. UNI.