STARTING. 13 



sickness ; while inside and out were numerous pack- 

 ages and portmanteaus which go to make up a 

 fisherman's outfit. 



The voyage to Portland by steamboat, on a star- 

 light night, with a soft westerly wind and a smooth 

 sea, is riot an extra hazardous one, nor does it 

 admit of any glowing imagery of description. Char- 

 lie didn't need his lemons, so that first conun- 

 drum of his was never solved. We chatted on 

 the after-deck, of our happy exodus, and specu- 

 lated on coming enjoyments, till one by one our 

 fellow-passengers had retired and we held full pos- 

 session ; then Charlie insisted that I should sing 

 "The morning light is breaking," which I kindly 

 did, although I could hardly see the appropriate- 

 ness of the selection, saving its being the only sec- 

 ular piece I do sing : however, it served to stir up 

 things a little, for, before I commenced on the sec- 

 ond line, my wife and Charles bade me good-night, 

 and left me to finish my hymn to the mermaids. 



It always did take my wife a long time to let 

 down her back hair : so I lit a fresh cigar, and gazed 

 off upon the " moonlit waves " (copied by permis- 

 sion) . I had finished my cigar, and still sat gazing 

 far away to where Thacher lights were gleaming in 

 the distance, when a different kind of smoke from 

 that in which I had been indulging invaded my 



