_Letter Number Twenty-seven_

NEW YORK

I send you this, madam, to let you know that we arrived here safely
yesterday afternoon, and that we are going to-day to Jone's mother's
farm where Corinne is.

I liked sailing from Southampton because when I start to go to a place
I like to go, and when we went home before and had to begin by going
all the way up to Liverpool by land, and then coming all the way back
again by water, and after a couple of days of this to stop at
Queenstown and begin the real voyage from there, I did not like it,
although it was a good deal of fun seeing the bumboat women come aboard
at Queenstown and telescope themselves into each other as they hurried
up the ladder to get on deck and sell us things.

We had a very good voyage, with about enough rolling to make the dining
saloon look like some of the churches we've seen abroad on weekdays
where there was services regular, but mighty small congregations.

When we got in sight of my native shore, England, Scotland, and even
the longed-for Italy, with her palaces and gondolas, faded from my
mind, and my every fibre tingled with pride and patriotism. We reached
our dock about six o'clock in the afternoon, and I could scarcely stand
still, so anxious was I to get ashore. There was a train at eight which
reached Rockbridge at half-past nine, and there we could take a
carriage and drive to the farm in less than an hour, and then Corinne
would be in my arms, so you may imagine my state of mind--Corinne
before bedtime! But a cloud blacker than the heaviest fog came down
upon me, for while we was standing on the deck, expecting every minute
to land, a man came along and shouted at the top of his voice that no
baggage could be examined by the custom-house officers after six
o'clock, and the passengers could take nothing ashore with them but
their hand-bags, and must come back in the morning and have their
baggage examined. When I heard this my soul simply boiled within me! I
looked at Jone, and I could see he was boiling just as bad.

"Jone," said I, "don't say a word to me."

"I am not going to say a word," said he, and he didn't. All our
belongings was in our trunks. Jone didn't carry any hand-bag, and I had
only a little one which had in it three newspapers, which we bought
from the pilot, a tooth-brush, a spool of thread and some needles, and
a pair of scissors with one point broken off. With these things we had
to go to a hotel and spend th