Bennington semi-weekly banner. (Bennington, Vt.) 1894-1902, 1895-10-18
Correspondence.
4 RUE CHEvREUsE, PARIS, France, Sept
Goth, 1895.

Editor of Bdnner-DEAR SIR: How
the experience of first ocean trip long
fingers in ones mind; such vastness and
grandeur!
1t is always a pretty sight when the
great ocean steamships leave the pier
amid the gifts and fiuttering handker-
chiefs of friends. One hardly knows
whether to smile or be fearful.
We left Boston on the stanch and vail
ant "Veendam," N. A. S. NJ, Sept. It'll,
and, without glimpse of land until we
sighted the Scillyo at noon on the 10th,
you sigh, "What can one find to do to
beguile those long days and hours" All!
but the time was short and the voyage
memorable!
First let us peer into the steamer Sc
crets. Here are our cozy state rooms,
our library, dining saloon, and concert
hall. Come to the steerage, which wish
had space to describe at length, it is so in
teresting, and up to our own broad prom
enade decks. Note the warnings that
you will b. sea-sick-straps and ropes in
abundance. They strike terror to our
hearts.
One day out! The little world of be-
ings suddenly find themselves exceeding
ly interested in each other; but of course
the most common query becomes, "who
is sea- sick?" Our voyage was blessed
with sunshine, and after the third night
OUT, holding proof thus far against the
waves and their sly attempts at confus
ing my digestion, your correspondent
was, happily, not sea.sick, thanks to her
''sea-sick medicine" but soon fairly on
her alleys" To get thus far, one
must continually exercise, the ankles
must yield, and the body swing with the
motion of the ship. 1t is very funny to
watch the various antics, as our co-pas-
sengers get on their feet.
At last, you are we'll enough to char.
acterize you fellow passengers Gust com
pare notes with a friend later. Your
good disposition asserts itself Every
day there i something new, The sun.
rise glints the waves with ID mantle of daz-
cling glory; the blue waves in the wake
of the vessel are white with foam;
"Mother Carey's chickens" are following
us and hover alb nut the line that gauges
the miles we make day; sea birds fly
across our path, and sometimes alight.
You must consult the log book daily,
and note the old sailor custom of living
by bells-eight bells, lunch; four bells,
dinner. The Waterman calls his "alIs
well!" Responsibility brings our cap.
tain con the bridge at midnight;" no
sleep for him through the lone, starry
hours. Gorgeous sunsets follow perfect
days, when the white-caps have been
rolling and the waves swelling. Just the
days for promenades A high wind
reaches us on the morrow, The sea Is
cold and dark. The waves rush over the
steerage and through the port holes, and
a scream betrays wetting. Such are
the novelties of sea life. 1t is great fun
watching these big waves play at hide
anu seek. We run into a school of por-
poises; they leap and chase each other
about the ship, and frOlic and race with
us until frightened away. We watch for
sails, and now one appears far off on the
horizon, and again, nearer, so that we
can salute. Their flag is raised in re-
spouse to ours. A hungry shark ap.
pears, a whale spouts in the distance,
and the ship glides along into the Arctic
current, where we strain our eyes TO
catch sight of an iceberg. 1t is refresh
ing, after the warm sickness of the gulf
stream.
Once on our sea-legs we are ready for
anything-a Mediterranean cruise,
North pole trip, big storm. Our sea.
blood is up. Shuttle boards, "horse bill
liards'' Mark Twain calls them, is fla
vorite game. There is mock trial this
evening in the saloon, a musicale to-mor
row on the bow, a reading on
the stearn, and the next day concert,
with printed programmes, in the cabin.
Why! life is not worth living on land!
and, alas, we are to sight the Scillys to-
morrow at noon, Fairy-lik islands they
are, mysterious in the misty light. We
can fancy Sir Walters "ArmOrer' stand
ing on that Uniting ledge.
In the English channel EddystOne
light throws its beacon far into the night,
and at breakfast we are called up for the
Dover cliffs, their chalky Wilderness
bathed in the morning sun light. No
more time for chats and tete-a-tetes in
the hooks and corners of the deck; no
more watching the moon rise and the
myriads of stars as the ship dips, dips,
and the bow rises and falls ON the high
pillows! The milky way and Cassiopeia,
our old friends, we must leave. The
excitement is all aboard, and the steer
age sing for joy and their band plays as
they near the homeland. 1t is very
touching. On the morrow the yachts
and fishing smacks multiply, and see!
there is France the distant shores of
Boulogne.sur- appear. 1t is a mo-
ment we never can forget, as we place
our feet on the sacred soil of the old
world, sacred to heroes and history.
And our brave "Veendam" cleaves the
waters toward Rotterdam, her American
flag flying in answer to ours that we
firmly grip on board our little steamer
which brings us to the Care, Napoleon's
muster ground on our left, and the
imagination fleets us forward, forward,
to Paris, the goal of our ambition.
wish had time and space to tell you
more about steerage life, so picturesque;
about our cuisine and bits of individual
ism; our custom. house experiences, and
French money adventures, but it would
require book A sight now and then
in Paris may be of interest later on.
IAN AMERICAN GIRL AnROADn