T was my good fortune to 

 be invited, in the early 

 part of the summer of 

 94, to help bring to New 

 York a 50 -foot schooner yacht, 

 which a friend had bought in Port- 

 land, Me. So, one Saturday after- 

 noon, late in May, a small party -of 

 us, including our host, found our- 

 selves on board the " Cottage City," 

 of the Portland S.S. Line. Indue 

 time we arrived at that city, but in 

 what condition I will not state, as we 

 were storm-bound for several days. 

 Suffice it to say some of us were well 

 tempest-tossed, and all were majvel- 

 ously empty. 



If I ever go to Portland again, I 

 hope it will be in charge of the cap- 

 tain of the "Cottage City," for a 

 more genial, obliging master, or a 

 better officer, it has never been my 

 fortune to meet. 



As we entered the harbor, we 

 looked in vain for the little schoon- 

 er, so when we landed we had to go 

 to the hotel and take up our quar- 

 ters, where we soon learned that the 

 yacht had not quite finished fitting 

 out, but that she would probably be 

 on hand the next afternoon. 



Finally the schooner came into 

 port and we moved on board, but no 

 sooner had we put all in order and 

 got ready to sail, than the clouds 

 thickened and the fog and rain came 

 on us. There was not much wind, 

 but the heavens seemed saturated 



with water and the air with fog. This 

 lasted so long that we lost one of 

 our party, whose leave of absence 

 had expired, and he had to return 

 home by a faster conveyance than a 

 schooner yacht. At last, on Satur- 

 day evening, the clouds rolled away 

 and the sun came out in a burst of 

 setting splendor that promised fair 

 weather for the coming day. 



Sunday morning broke serene and 

 beautiful, and ere the rising sun gild- 

 ed the spires of the city, all was life 

 and preparation on the deck of the 

 " Esperance." No longer the water 

 dripped from our faces as we looked 

 from the companion way, and our 

 rubber coats were laid aside, for the 

 first time since we came on board. 

 Then the pilot came off shore — as 

 hardy, fine-looking an old sea-dog as 

 you would meet in a day's journey, 

 and one who inspired your confi- 

 dence the minute he crossed the 

 rail. It was glorious to hear the an- 

 chor chain rattle as it came aboard, 

 link after link; and when, finally the 

 flukes of the anchor itself appeared, 

 we could not help congratulating 

 our friend, the owner, for we had 

 really begun to fear there was no an- 

 chor at all, but that the boat was riv- 

 eted to the bottom and the clouds 

 glued to the sky. 



Off at last! I said the day was 

 serene. In fact, it was a little too 

 serene, for not a breath of air rippled 

 the surface of the water, though the 



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