ly in the night, we were
glad to hear the chain-cable taken on board, and to know that we were
actually on our voyage after so many delays.

"Aunty," said Carrie, "I have frequently read of ships 'crossing the
bar;' what does it mean?"

There is often a place at the mouth of a river, or at the entrance of a
harbor or bay, where the sand is washed up in a sort of bank, making the
water shallow just there, so that large ships have to wait until high
tide, or when the water is deepest over those sand-banks or bars, to
come in.

There were seventeen passengers on board; but we were not all of us on
deck together for six days, because the sea was so very rough in
consequence of the storm, by which we had been detained in San Francisco
Bay. On the 19th of February, we got into the trade-winds, which gave us
a steady breeze in the right direction, and for two days we had
twenty-eight sails set most of the time. I longed to be where I could
get a good view of the ship with so many sails out; for I thought she
must look finely.

We had a Chinese steward on board--

"What does a _steward_ do on a ship?" interrupted Harry.

He takes charge of the table and provisions, and often acts as cook. He
had a hard time in securing the dishes; for notwithstanding the racks,
the vessel rolled so that knives and forks slipped off as if they had
wings. Racks are narrow strips, an inch or two high, upon each edge of
the table, and two in the middle, with about a foot's distance between
them. These keep the dishes in place when it is rough. It really did
seem as if the worst rolls came while we were at meals; I suppose we
noticed them more then. Sometimes there was a general slide, and the
passengers would seize a tea-cup with one hand, or a vegetable-dish, or
a chicken, while all held on by the table with the other.

Thursday night, the 26th of February, found us off a headland on the
island of Oahu, and there we spent our first quiet night since leaving
San Francisco. There was a buoy near us, marking the channel. It looked
like a square plank, and was anchored with a bell upon it, which, as the
waves rolled it back and forth, tolled with a mournful sound.

But there's a bell that doesn't sound mournful. It says, "Come to tea!"

VI.

Honolulu.

The clock had hardly finished striking four, when I heard Harry coming
up-stairs two at a time, and "Hurra for the Sandwich Islands!" sounded
at my door. So I laid down my work, an