m unable to say,
if our letters can be used at the place you mention. They are good all
over the civilized world, but I don't know anything about Irkutsk.
Never heard of the place before."

I bowed myself out of the establishment, with a fresh conviction of
the unknown character of the country whither I was bound. I obtained a
letter of credit at the opposition shop, but without a guarantee of
its availability in Northern Asia.

In a foggy atmosphere on the morning of March 21, 1866, I rode through
muddy streets to the dock of the Pacific Mail Steamship Company. There
was a large party to see us off, the passengers having about three
times their number of friends. There were tears, kisses, embraces,
choking sighs, which ne'er might be repeated; blessings and
benedictions among the serious many, and gleeful words of farewell
among the hilarious few. One party of half a dozen became merry over
too much champagne, and when the steward's bell sounded its warning,
there was confusion on the subject of identity. One stout gentleman
who protested that he _would_ go to sea, was led ashore much against
his will.

After leaving the dock, I found my cabin room-mate a gaunt,
sallow-visaged person, who seemed perfectly at home on a steamer. On
my mentioning the subject of sea-sickness, he eyed me curiously and
then ventured an opinion.

"I see," said he, "you are of bilious temperament and will be very
ill. As for myself, I have been a dozen times over the route and am
rarely affected by the ship's motion."

Then he gave me some kind advice touching my conduct when I should
feel the symptoms of approaching _mal du mer_. I thanked him and
sought the deck. An hour after we passed Sandy Hook, my new
acquaintance succumbed to the evils that afflict landsmen who go down
to the sea in ships. Without any qualm of stomach or conscience, I
returned the advice he had proffered me. I did not suffer a moment
from the marine malady during that voyage, or any subsequent one.[A]

[Footnote A: A few years ago a friend gave me a prescription which he
said would prevent sea-sickness. I present it here as he wrote it.

"The night before going to sea, I take a blue pill (5 to 10 grains) in
order to carry the bile from the liver into the stomach. When I rise
on the following morning, a dose of citrate of magnesia or some
kindred substance finishes my preparation. I take my breakfast and all
other meals afterward as if nothing had happened."