on."

CHAPTER XXII. RETURN TO THE STATES

I dream of the east wind's tonic, Of the breakers' stormy roar, And the
peace of the inner harbor With the long low Shimmo shore.

* * * *

I long for the buoy-bell's tolling When the north wind brings from afar
The smooth, green, shining billows, To be churned into foam on the bar.

Oh! for the sea-gulls' screaming As they swoop so bold and free! Oh! for
the fragrant commons, And the glorious open sea!--

For the restful great contentment, For the joy that is never known Till
past the jetty and Brant Point Light The Islander comes to his own!

--MARY E. STARBUCK.

"I must send you out. I see that you cannot stand it here another
month," said Jack one day; and so he bundled us onto the boat in the
early spring, and took us down the river to meet the ocean steamer.

There was no question about it this time, and I well knew it.

I left my sister and her son in Ehrenberg, and I never saw my nephew
again. A month later, his state of health became so alarming that my
sister took him to San Francisco. He survived the long voyage, but died
there a few weeks later at the home of my cousin.

At Fort Yuma we telegraphed all over the country for a nurse, but no
money would tempt those Mexican women to face an ocean voyage. Jack put
me on board the old "Newbern" in charge of the Captain, waited to see
our vessel under way, then waved good-bye from the deck of the "Gila,"
and turned his face towards his post and duty. I met the situation
as best I could, and as I have already described a voyage on this old
craft, I shall not again enter into details. There was no stewardess
on board, and all arrangements were of the crudest description. Both
my child and I were seasick all the way, and the voyage lasted sixteen
days. Our misery was very great.

The passengers were few in number, only a couple of Mexican miners
who had been prospecting, an irritable old Mexican woman, and a German
doctor, who was agreeable but elusive.

The old Mexican woman sat on the deck all day, with her back against the
stateroom door; she was a picturesque and indolent figure.

There was no diversion, no variety; my little boy required constant care
and watching. The days seemed endless. Everbody bought great bunches of
green bananas at the ports in Mexico, where we stopped for passengers.

The old woman was irritable, and one day when she saw the agreeable
German doctor pulling bananas from the