d reel. Immense was the
delight of the company when the funniest old gentleman there volunteered
a song; and ecstatic the joy when he followed it up by a speech upon
every subject that an ordinary mind could possibly embrace in a quarter
of an hour. But who can describe the scene that ensued when supper was
reported ready in the cabin!--a cabin that was very small indeed, with a
stair leading down to it so steep that those who were pretty high up
could have easily stepped upon the shoulders of those who were near the
foot; and the unpleasant idea was painfully suggested that if any one of
the heavy ladies (there were several of them) was to slip her foot on
commencing the descent, she would infallibly sweep them all down in a
mass, and cram them into the cook's pantry, the door of which stood
wickedly open at the foot of the stair, as if it anticipated some such
catastrophe. Such pushing, squeezing, laughing, shrieking, and joking,
in the vain attempt made to get upwards of thirty people crammed into a
room of twelve feet by ten! Such droll and cutting remarks as were made
when they were at last requested to sup in detachments! All this,
however, was nothing to what ensued after supper, when the fiddler
became more energetic, and the dancers more vigorous than ever. But
enough. The first grey streaks of morning glimmered in the east ere the
joyous party "tumbled down the sides" and departed to their homes.

There is a sweet yet melancholy pleasure, when far away from friends and
home, in thinking over happy days gone by, and dwelling on the scenes
and pleasures that have passed away, perhaps for ever. So I thought and
felt as I recalled to mind the fun and frolic of the Stornoway ball, and
the graver mirth of the Gravesend dinner, until memory traced my course
backward, step by step, to the peaceful time when I dwelt in Scotland,
surrounded by the gentle inmates of my happy home. We had left the
shores and the green water behind us, and were now ploughing through the
blue waves of the wide Atlantic; and when I turned my straining eyes
towards the faint blue line of the lessening hills, "a tear unbidden
trembled" as the thought arose that I looked perhaps for the last time
upon my dear native land.

The sea has ever been an inexhaustible subject for the pens of most
classes of writers. The poet, the traveller, and the novelist has each
devoted a portion of his time and talents to the mighty ocean; but that
par