35 Edward Livingston Youmans. 



or forty feet deep, but it is as thick as pea soup, and we 

 can't see ten feet from the ship. No wind and no pros- 

 pect of change. The express we calculated on taking 

 leaves at eleven. Everybody was up early, but some have 

 gone back to bed, and some to their cards, and many are 

 profaning on deck. I telegraphed Spencer from Queens- 

 town, " Due Tuesday afternoon in London." Impossible. 

 Vicissitudes of travel. 



LONDON, December 18, 1878. 



DEAR SISTER : I got off at Liverpool at half past one ; 

 got through the customhouse at ten minutes of two ; got 

 to Lime Street Station at two ; got the train with not a 

 second to spare, and got into London at half past eight, the 

 train being an hour behind time. Spencer met me at the 

 door. He is very well, and was ready to start on the in- 

 stant for the Continent. Everything was ready, tickets 

 taken through, circular notes procured, etc. . . . We shall 

 be off at nine to-morrow morning by Dover and Calais to 

 Paris, where we spend one day, and then take the night 

 train for Marseilles, and that is all I know. I expect it 

 will be two months to a day, and he proposes to spend 

 about a week in a place. Miss Shickle is to send his post 

 to him, so in future you will write to me here, directing 

 37 Queen's Gardens, and no time will be lost or extra ex- 

 pense in early sending through Layton. ... I shall be 

 put through like anything, but I guess it will do me good. 

 I have no time to write another line. Love to all. 



LONDON, December 20, 2878. 



DEAR SISTER: We started two hours ago from 37, 

 wrapped and packed as if we were going to Greenland. It 

 was as dark as midnight, the gas being lit in the streets, 

 and even then we could hardly get round. I am now 

 writing in the Charing Cross Station, with one gas burner 

 about seven feet above me, and the room is so dark the 

 people can scarcely be seen. We were to take the train 



