awaiting the arrival of letters at the Savannah post-office, many
of the ladies of that beautiful city came out to see the paper canoe.
They seemed to have the mistaken idea that my little craft had come from
the distant Dominion of Canada over the Atlantic Ocean. They also
looked upon the voyage of the paper canoe as a very sentimental thing,
while the canoeist had found it an intensely practical affair, though
occasionally relieved by incidents of romantic or amusing character. As
the ladies clustered round the boat while it rested upon the
centre-table of Mr. Hellwig's parlor, they questioned me freely.

"Tell us," they said, "what were your thoughts while you rowed upon the
broad ocean in the lonely hours of night?"

Though unwilling to break their pleasing illusions, I was obliged to
inform them that a sensible canoeist is usually enjoying his needed rest
in some camp, or sleeping in some sheltered place,--under a roof if
possible,--after it is too dark to travel in safety; and as to ocean
travelling, the canoe had only once entered upon the Atlantic Ocean, and
then through a mistake.

"But what subjects occupy your thoughts as you row, and row, and row all
day by yourself, in this little ship?" a motherly lady inquired.

"To tell you honestly, ladies, I must say that when I am in
shallow watercourses, with the tides usually ebbing at the wrong
time for my convenience, I am so full of anxiety about getting
wrecked on the reefs of sharp coon-oysters, that I am wishing
myself in deep water; and when my route forces me into the deep
water of sounds, and the surface becomes tossed into wild
disorder by strong currents and stronger winds, and the
porpoises pay me their little attentions, chasing the canoe,
flapping their tails, and showing their sportive dispositions, I
think longingly of those same shoal creeks, and wish I was once
more in their shallow waters."

"We ladies have prayed for your safety," said a kind-looking German
lady, "and we will pray that your voyage may have a happy and
successful end."

When the ladies left, two Irish laborers, dressed in sombre black, with
high hats worn with the air of dignity, examined the boat. There was an
absence of the sparkle of fun usually seen in the Irish face, for this
was a serious occasion. They did not see any romance or sentiment in the
voyage, but took a broad, geographical view of the matter. They stood
silently