AN OCTOBER ABROAD 227 



bay. She came to anchor about a mile or two out, 

 and a little tug was in readiness to take us off. A 

 score or more of emigrants, each with a bag and 

 box, had been waiting all the morning at the wharf. 

 When the time of embarkation arrived, the agent 

 stepped aboard the tug and called out their names 

 one by one, when Bridget and Catherine and Patrick 

 and Michael, and the rest, came aboard, receivied 

 their tickets, and passed "forward," with a half- 

 frightened, half-bewildered look. But not much 

 emotion was displayed until the boat began to move 

 off, when the tears fell freely, and they continued 

 to fall faster and faster, and the sobs to come thicker 

 and thicker, until, as the faces of friends began to 

 fade on the wharf, both men and women burst out 

 into a loud, unrestrained bawl. This sudden dem- 

 onstration of grief seemed to frighten the children 

 and smaller fry, who up to this time had been very 

 jovial; but now, suspecting something was Avrong, 

 they all broke out in a most pitiful chorus, forming 

 an anti-climax to the wail of their parents that was 

 quite amusing, and that seemed to have its effect 

 upon the "children of a larger growth," for they 

 instantly hushed their lamentations and turned their 

 attention toward the great steamer. There was a 

 rugged but bewildered old granny among them, on 

 her way to join her daughter somewhere in the in- 

 terior of New York, who seemed to regard me with 

 a kindred eye, and toward whom, I confess, I felt 

 some family affinity. Before we had got half way to 

 the vessel, the dear old creature missed a sheet from 



