re daylight, Sunday morning, the vessel which bore that noble youth,
all weather-beaten as a rusty potash kettle, but grand and majestic
after its tussle with the storms, shot out her anchor in the lower
bay--for New York has two bays, and two fine old rivers empty into them.
The squadron--which means three or four other ships from Russia--had
been waiting there till their great iron hearts nearly burst with fear
that the imperial vessel had foundered; and when they saw it careering
in amongst 'em, they set up a shout that made the very fishes in the bay
rest on their fins and wonder what it could mean, for they had never
heard Russians before, and it seemed as if the alphabet had been shaken
ten thousand times over from as many pepper-boxes, and rained down on
the water in one great shout.

Nobody has told me yet how his imperial dukeship took this, and I
haven't liked to inquire too closely. Supposing him asleep in the sweet
privacy of his own upper berth, it wouldn't be quite proper, you know,
but it must have been soul-stirring to hear those native syllables
raining down blessings like tacks and brad-awls on his noble head.

How our imperial guest spent the Sabbath-day is a mystery that Russia
and the Russians only can solve. But I am credibly informed that ten
thousand upper-crust females betook themselves to secret devotions in
their own rooms, in crimping-pins and curl papers, the moment we got
news that he was here.

As for myself, I confess--no, our Society is not a confessional, and the
secrets of a lady's get-up don't belong to a report for the public eye.
So I say nothing on that point.

Sunday night I couldn't sleep a wink; my heart was full of noble
aspirations, and it seemed as if some wild Indian of the forest had got
his grip in my hair and might scalp me any minute, everything was
twisted so tight in that direction. In fact, to say nothing of sleeping,
I couldn't have winked to save my life. But I bore it with Christian
fortitude, determined to press forward to the mark of the prize. Oh,
dear! will I ever remember that this report isn't a class-meeting
confession? Well, the morning came, and oh, my sisters, it was pouring
cats and dogs. When I heard this, I rose up in bed, covered my face with
both hands, and just boo-hooed out a crying. I knew well enough that ten
thousand other young girls were weeping like the skies; but that only
made me feel worse and worse, for mine has always been a sympathet