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THREE DAYS AND THREE NIGHTS ON BOARD A STEAMER. 



On Tuesday, the 24th of February, 1835, we shipped ourselves at 

 Greenwich on board the Lomond Castle Steamer, bound for Belfast. A 

 considerably greater cargo than anticipated arrived upon the quay a 

 short time before the hour appointed for sailing ; and the consequence 

 was we were detained several hours, at which we began to murmur. 

 The entire number of cabin passengers were seven — first and most 

 important were ourselves ; next was a fat, thick, gaudy man. dressed 

 in a blue coat, yellow buttons, white trousers, tartan waistcoat, and 

 coloured neckerchief, and who, it appeared afterwards, was a Scotch- 

 man resident in Belfast, in the provision line, and had been over selling 

 a cargo of Cara pork : he was a funny fellow, and afforded us some 

 amusement during the time we were murmuring at the delay. Next 

 him sat a scurvy-faced, lanky, lean, proud-looking subject, who appeared 

 to have filled up Burns's idea of a Hieland gentleman by having nothing 

 particular about his appearance saving scabs and hunger ; he called out 

 so impertinently to the steward, that he was instantly set down as a 

 writer's clerk, broke loose from his desk and stool — he turned out after- 

 wards to be a poor lieutenant, after a six weeks' leave of absence, return- 

 ing to his regiment in Ireland, there to resume his old occupation of 

 pig-driving. Next him sat a quiet, sedate, pale-faced-looking young 

 man, who was a travelling clerk for a stationery house in Edinburgh, 

 who, finding their goods likely to be truly stationary unless their clerk 

 got unstationary, had sent him over to Ireland with his bundle of sam- 

 ples. Lying at full length on one of the sofas was a remarkably nice- 

 looking young man, dressed in the top of the fashion, having his clothes 

 put so nicely on that one almost thought they had been adjusted with a 

 plumb-line and square, and whose ruifled shirt showed that he had stu- 

 died the art of tying the cravat ; his wrists were encircled with most 

 beautiful wrist-collars, his hands delicately white, while he sported a 

 large ring on the little finger of one of them, and spoke with a lisp, ap- 

 parently almost afraid that his voice would destroy the tie of his cravat, 

 or the posture of his surtout collar : who he was we were puzzled to find 

 out. He had so much nicknackery about his appearance, and smelled so 

 dreadfully of musk, that we would have set him down as the shopman to 

 Bome metropolitan perfumery house, only his conversation and manners 

 were truly polite, and made me regret that his dress had so much of the 

 fop, as otherwise he had the appearance of a gentleman. Sitting read- 

 ing at the table was a young man having a very white face, terrible 

 brogue, and conversation smelling so rank of the shop, that there was no 

 doubt who he was, and we all thought he might have spared himself the 

 trouble of telling us he was a medical man — but we never would have 

 done the profession the injustice to have called him doctor, unless he had 

 shown us his diploma. Who the seventh passenger was we do not re- 



