FROM LONDON TO NEW YORK. 247 



Is the magpie a Celt and a Catholic ? I saw no 

 one in England, but plenty of them in France, and 

 again when I reached Ireland. 



At Queen stown I awaited the steamer from Liver- 

 pool, and about nine o'clock in the morning was de- 

 lighted to see her long black form moving up the 

 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 Mi- 

 chael, and the rest, came aboard, received their tick- 

 ets and passed "forward" with a half-frightened, half- 

 bewildered look. But not much emotion was dis- 

 played 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, un- 

 til, as the faces of friends began to fade on the wharf, 

 both men and women burst out into a loud, unre- 

 strained bawl. This sudden demonstration of grief 

 seemed to frighten the children and smaller fry, who 

 up to this time had been very jovial ; but now, sus- 

 pecting something was wrong, 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 



