24 LIFE OF PROFESSOR HUXLEY chap, hi 



We have come in for the purpose of effecting some trifling 

 repairs, which, though not essential to the safety of the ship, 

 will nevertheless naturally enhance the comfort of its inmates. 

 This you will understand when I tell you that in consequence 

 of these same defects I have had water an inch or two deep in 

 my cabin, wish-washing about ever since we left Madeira. 



We crossed the line on the 13th of this month, and as one 

 of the uninitiated I went through the usual tomfoolery prac- 

 tised on that occasion. The affair has been too often described 

 for me to say anything about it. I had the good luck to be 

 ducked and shaved early, and of course took particular care 

 to do my best in serving out the unhappy beggars who had to 

 follow. I enjoyed the fun well enough at the time, but unques- 

 tionably it is on all grounds a most pernicious custom. It 

 swelled our sick list to double the usual amount, and one poor 

 fellow, I am sorry to say, died of the effects of pleurisy then 

 contracted. 



We have been quite long enough at sea now to enable me to 

 judge how I shall get on in the ship, and to form a very clear 

 idea of how it fits me and how I fit it. In the first place I am 

 exceedingly well and exceedingly contented with my lot. My 

 opinion of the advantages lying open to me increases rather than 

 otherwise as I see my way about me. I am on capital terms 

 with all the superior officers, and I find them ready to give me 

 all facilities. I have a place for my books and microscope in 

 the chart room, and there I sit and read in the morning much 

 as though I were in my rooms in Agar Street. My immediate 

 superior, Johnny Thompson, is a long-headed good fellow with- 

 out a morsel of humbug about him — a man whom I thoroughly 

 respect, both morally and intellectually. I think it will be my 

 fault if we are not fast friends through the commission. One 

 friend on board a ship is as much as anybody has a right to 

 expect. 



It is just the interval between the sea and the land breezes, 

 the sea like glass, and not a breath stirring. I shall become 

 soup if I do not go on deck. Temp, in sun at noon 86 in shade, 

 139 in sun. N.B. — It has been up to 89 in shade, 139 in sun 

 since this. 



March 28. — I see I concluded with a statement of temp. 

 Since then it has been considerably better — 140 in sun ; however, 

 in the shade it rarely rises above 86 or so, and when the sea or 

 land breezes are blowing this is rather pleasant than otherwise. 



I have been ashore two or three times. The town is like 



