228 WINTER SUNSHINE 



her precious bundle of worldly effects, and very 

 confidentially told me that her suspicions pointed 

 to the stoker, a bristling, sooty "wild Irishman." 

 The stoker resented the insinuation, and I overheard 

 him berating the old lady in Irish so sharply and 

 threateningly (I had no doubt of his guilt) that she 

 was quite frightened, and ready to retract the charge 

 to hush the man up. She seemed to think her 

 troubles had just begun. If they behaved thus to 

 her on the little tug, what would they not do on 

 board the great black steamer itself? So when she 

 got separated from her luggage in getting aboard the 

 vessel, her excitement was great, and I met her fol- 

 lowing about the man whom she had accused of filch- 

 ing her bed linen, as if he must have the clew to 

 the lost bed itself. Her face brightened when she 

 saw me, and, giving me a terribly hard wink and a 

 most expressive nudge, said she wished I would keep 

 near her a little. This I did, and soon had the 

 pleasure of leaving her happy and reassured beside 

 her box and bundle. 



The passage home, though a rough one, was cheer- 

 fully and patiently borne. I found a compound 

 motion, — the motion of a screw steamer, a roll and 

 a plunge — less trying to my head than the simple 

 rocking or pitching of the side-wheeled Scotia. 

 One motion was in a measure a foil to the other. 

 My brain, acted upon by two forces, was compelled 

 to take the hypothenuse, and I think the concussion 

 was considerably diminished thereby. The vessel 

 was forever trembling upon the verge of immense 



