influence over the Cattle Man," the captain said,
Sabbath morning, as we were walking the deck. "The Cattle Man?" "Yes,
the parson will get a good hold of him." Just then, as if to prove the
old proverb true, that his satanic majesty is always in the immediate
neighborhood when his character is under discussion, the Cattle Man and
Jersey came up the companion-way. "If you please, captain," said the
former, "we are a committee to ask if the parson may preach to the
steerage people to-night." "Certainly," was the reply; "I will attend
myself." They thanked him, and went below, leaving me utterly amazed.
They were the last men upon the ship whom one would have selected as a
committee upon spiritual things!

The church service for the cabin passengers was held in the saloon. A
velvet cushion upon one end of the long table constituted the pulpit,
before which the minister stood, holding fast to the rack on either
side, and bracing himself against the captain's chair in the rear. Even
then he made, involuntarily, more bows than any ritualist, and the
scripture, "What went ye out for to see? A reed shaken by the wind?"
would present itself. The sailors in their neat dress filed in and
ranged themselves in one corner. The stewards gathered about the door,
one, with face like an owl, most conspicuous. The passengers filled
their usual seats, and a delegation from the steerage crept shyly into
the unoccupied space--women with shawls over their heads and babies in
their arms, shock-headed men and toddling children, but all with an
evident attempt at appropriate dress and manner. Among them was one
sweet young English face beneath an old crape bonnet. A pair of shapely
hands, which the shabby black gloves could not disguise, held fast a
little child. Widowhood and want in the old world; what was waiting her
in the new? The captain read the service, and all the people responded.
The women's eyes grew wet at the sound of the familiar words. The little
English widow bent her face over the head of the child in her lap, and
something glistened in its hair. Our sympathies grew wide, and we joined
in the prayer for the queen, that she might have victory over her
enemies, and even murmured a response to the petition for Albert Edward
and the nobility, dimly conscious that they needed prayers. The good
captain added a petition for the president of the United States, to
which the Mowing Machine Man and I said, "Amen." Then the minister,
hav