zing, jolting carriages behind it--the clatter of the wheels and
rattle of the coupling-chains keeping time with the puffs and pants of
escaping steam--my temporary emotion at parting with Uncle George was
banished by the exultant feeling of being set free, like a bird let
loose from a cage.

I was only conscious that I was flying along to new scenes and new
surroundings, where everything would be fresh and novel, and entirely
unlike what I had previously been accustomed to at Tapioca Villa.

CHAPTER TWO.

AT BEACHAMPTON.

My journey "down the line" was a momentous matter to me in more ways
than one; for, independently of the fact of its being the first
opportunity I had ever had of riding in a railway train, it was while
travelling down to Brighton, and thence along the endless south coast
route past Shoreham and Worthing, that I had my first sight of the sea--
that sea on whose restless bosom my floating home was to be made for
many a year afterwards in good fortune and ill.

I must confess, however, that this first view of the element did not
impress me very greatly, in spite of the tendency of my mind at that
period to take a rose-coloured view of everything new that came within
range of my vision, so long as it was totally disconnected with old
associations of the Islington villa; for, from the window of the third-
class carriage, whence I was peering out eagerly to see all that was to
be seen, the marine horizon that stretched out before my gaze appeared
more like a large inverted wash-hand basin than anything else, with the
ships that were going up and down Channel, seeming to be sailing in a
curve along its outer rim; while, instead of the vivid hue of cerulean
blue that had been pictured in my imagination as the invariable tint of
Neptune's domain, the sober tone of the tumid element was that of a dull
brownish-grey, reflecting the unwholesome leaden-tinged sky above, and,
there being no wind to speak of, there wasn't the ghost of a ripple
perceptible on its sullen, silent surface!

Even novelty tires after a time, and long before I had reached my
destination I had got heartily sick of railway travelling; so, I was
very glad when, after changing carriages at a junction between Brighton
and somewhere else on the line, sometimes going fast, sometimes slow,
and thus crawling along landwise and seaward through miles of country
for four hours or more, the train came to a standstill beside the
platform of