STEAMER. — MACKINAW TO DETROIT. 301 



where the purest air, the serenest days, the most serious 

 scenery, and the far off, dreamy gaze over tlie -waves will 

 lull and soothe and restore the worn mind and the tired 

 heart. It was with relu(;tance — ^^almost with sadness — thai 

 we gazed our too early farewell to the historic and romantic 

 island, while we stood on the upper deck and the steamer 

 moved silently out upon the darkening w^aters and into the 

 evening shades, — the steamer's band, meanwhile, discours- 

 ing strains of music tranquilizing. tender, and soft as the 

 ambient air or the mirrordike waters beneath. The long, 

 quiet evening on the water followed. We sat on the upper 

 deck in easy chairs, and talked of the streams and woods, of 

 old college days together, of the homes and home-ones we 

 were journeying toward, of those we shall see no more on 

 this side of the River, of — but we were tAvo old friends, 

 boys together once, "old boys" now, — and it is ours to 

 remember what we talked. — It was late, very late, when 

 we went to our state-rooms 



All night long the good vessel ploAved her way through 

 the silvery waters, trembling through every fibre with lier 

 eager ardor. All day long she moved with the supt-rb 

 strength born of fire and steel and vapor. She halted at 

 the coast towns to take on and discharge passengers and 

 freight; the band l)eguiled the waiting-time, and we 

 traiujied up and down the streets \uitil the whistle sounded 

 a return. The wdnd came up fresh. I remember how 

 easil}- and with an airy grace quite exqiusite, my ^NFacki- 

 naw hat lifted from my head and sailed off into the Huron 

 i(> commit jWo de ae — the sixth suicide of the sort on the 

 steamer's trip. 



