THE LAYING OF THE ATLANTIC CABLE. 223 



stuff called buttermilk salt fish of three years' pickle 

 scores of eggs mountains of bread, of which they 

 can get what they like on board clumsy pipes 

 poultry, dead and alive lines to catch cod-fish in 

 Newfoundland (the latter bought also by the gentle- 

 men) even-thing is purchased, and at prices, too, far 

 exceeding those usual in our not over- cheap metropolis. 

 As to the mere sightseers and idlers on deck, whatever 

 impression the vast ship made on them it would be 

 difficult to guess, their admiration being exclusively 

 bestowed on our black pigs. I particularly observed 

 one gentleman, dressed in remnants of varied hue and 

 material, whose contemplation of those animals pro- 

 duced a mixed feeling of delight and regret. Daily 

 he came on board, never moving from the spot they 

 occupied (the painter's shop), inhaling the cherished 

 odour, and ever making earnest but fruitless attempts 

 to obtain one from the purser, in exchange for a huge 

 white pig he left in his boat below. Nor must I 

 forget the noble patriotism of one visitor, evidently a 

 merchant of great standing in the country, who in- 

 quired if the ship wanted coaling, offering, in that 

 case, to place fifty tons at our disposal. And most 

 amusing was his expression of astonishment and 

 unbelief when he was informed that the quantity he 

 offered would scarcely suffice for five hours' consump- 

 tion. When the market flagged, either through the 

 absorption of the supply or the weakness of the 

 demand, our sailors invited the natives to a terpsi- 



