t, so far as I was concerned, to rest in peace. In about two hours I
was awakened by a tremendous weight of water suddenly descending upon
me and flooding the bed. I immediately sprang out, only to find myself
in another pool on the floor. It was pitch dark, and I could not think
what had happened; so I rushed on deck, and found that the weather
having moderated a little, some kind sailor, knowing my love of fresh
air, had opened the skylight rather too soon, and one of the angry
waves had popped on board, deluging the cabin.

"I got a light, and proceeded to mop up, as best I could, and then
endeavored to find a dry place to sleep in. This, however, was no easy
task, for my own bed was drenched, and every other berth occupied.
The deck, too, was ankle-deep in water, as I found when I tried to
get across to the deck-house sofa. At last I lay down on the floor,
wrapped in my ulster, and wedged between the foot stanchion of our
swing bed and the wardrobe athwart-ship; so that as the yacht rolled
heavily, my feet were often higher than my head."

No wonder that a woman who could make the best of such circumstances
could make a year's trip on the _Sunbeam_ a delight to all on board.
Their first visits were to the Madeira, Teneriffe, and Cape de Verde
Islands, off the coast of Africa. With simplicity, the charm of all
writing, and naturalness, Lady Brassey describes the people, the
bathing where the sharks were plentiful, and the masses of wild
geranium, hydrangea, and fuchsia. They climb to the top of the lava
Peak of Teneriffe, over twelve thousand feet high; they rise at
five o'clock to see the beautiful sunrises; they watch the slaves at
coffee-raising at Rio de Janeiro, in South America, and Lady Brassey
is attracted toward the nineteen tiny babies by the side of their
mothers; "the youngest, a dear, little woolly-headed thing, as black
as jet, and only three weeks old."

In Belgrano, she says: "We saw for the first time the holes of the
bizcachas, or prairie-dogs, outside which the little prairie-owls keep
guard. There appeared to be always one, and generally two, of these
birds, standing like sentinels, at the entrance to each hole, with
their wise-looking heads on one side, pictures of prudence and
watchfulness. The bird and the beast are great friends, and are seldom
to be found apart." And then Lady Brassey, who understands photography
as well as how to write several languages, photographs this pretty
scene of p