lcome, I am sure, to girls especially, who contemplate a
trip over the ocean.

In the first place, your steamer outfit is a distinct affair. You are
allowed to take any baggage you wish for into your state-room; but, if
wise, you will not fill the narrow space, nor encumber yourself with
anything larger than a lady's _hat box_, which may offer a tolerable
seat to the stewardess, or visitors of condolence, in case seasickness
confines you to berth or sofa. Even preferable to this is a flat,
English portmanteau, which can be slipped under the lower berth. If you
sail for Liverpool, you can leave this at your hotel there in charge of
the head waiter until you return, and thus avoid the expense and care of
useless baggage.

Its contents your own good sense will in a measure suggest. Let me
add--a double gown or woollen wrapper, in which you may sleep, flannels
(even though you cross the ocean in summer), merino stockings, warm
gloves or mittens, as pretty a hood as you please, only be sure that it
covers the back of your head, since you will ignore all cunning craft of
hair dressing, for a few days at least, and even after you are well
enough to appear at the table, perhaps. Bear in mind that the Northern
Atlantic is a cold place, and horribly open to the wind _at all seasons
of the year_; that you will live on the deck when not in your berth or
at your meals, and that the deck of an ocean steamer partakes of the
nature of a whirlwind. Fur is by no means out of place, and skirts
should be sufficiently heavy to defy the gales, which convert everything
into a sail. Take as many wraps as you choose--and then you will wish
you had one more. A large shawl, or, better, a carriage-robe, is
indispensable, as you will very likely lie rolled up like a cocoon much
of the time. A low sea-chair, or common camp-chair, is useful to older
people; but almost any girl will prefer a seat upon the deck itself;
there are comfortable crannies into which no chair can be wedged.

By all means avoid elaborate fastenings to garments. A multiplicity of
unmanageable "hooks and eyes" is untold torment at sea; and let these
garments be few, but warm. You will appreciate the wisdom of this
suggestion, when you have accomplished the herculean task of making your
first state-room toilet.

If you are really going abroad for a season of _travel_, take almost
nothing. You can never know what you will need until the necessity
arises. If you anticipate, you