and shape of a Pullman section. Its distinction was
that it had a port-hole of its own through which I could freely admit
the local climate. When I first surveyed the contracted proportions of
this stateroom, the paucity of its fittings and entire lack of the
usual accommodations, I was filled as full of acute melancholia as an
egg is of meat and had I not paid the passage money I would have bolted
from the _Cork_ out into utter darkness; but I was "in for it," and
determined to make the best of the situation; so I got some clothes
lines and screw hooks, and with them constructed a labyrinth of handy
landing nets for all my belongings, which resembled the telegraph wires
on Tenth Avenue before Mayor Grant cut them down. I also hung my top
coat and mackintosh in convenient places, and used their pockets for
storage vaults. One pocket served as a complete medicine chest,
another accommodated slippers, collars, cuffs and shaving tackle, while
I utilized the sleeve openings (closed at the cuffs with safety pins),
to hold a full line of clothes, hair and tooth brushes, and tied small
things to the buttons, which shook with the vibration of the ship as
sleigh-bells are shaken by the vaudeville artist when he plays _Comin'
Through the Rye_ on them for an encore. The whole arrangement was a
marvelous and instantaneous success, and so proud was I of the
achievement that I invited my neighbors to peep into the stateroom to
see its glories and utilities. Some of them proceeded at once to copy
my best ideas--but that is the fate of all inventors. However, they
were grateful, for they named the passageway on which eight rooms
opened, "Harp Alley," in honor of my nationality, and placed a card
with this legend on it at the entrance:

HARP ALLEY

NIGHT & DAY HOUSE
On the South Corner
With a Port-Hole on the Side

Hot Meals
and
Other Entertainments
at all hours

"WE NEVER SLEEP"

The rush of arrivals was so great that I was soon obliged to remove the
sign and "close the house."

But a great catastrophe was shortly to happen which cast a gloom over
the Alley and plunged us into a miniature _Republic_ disaster. A big
salt water pipe was hung from the ceiling of the Alley passage; and
what do you think! under strong pressure it burst with a loud noise one
morning when we were dressing for breakfast and flooded the rooms of
the entire colony before we could say "Jack Robinson!" Such a
scurrying int