Our party has some of the best berths in the ship, most of them just in front of the engines, where there is hardly any motion, and scarcely any noise or smell from the machinery or pumps, etc. All our men, with one or two exceptions (including myself), have travelled much. Some think we may be home by Christmas, but it is rather early to talk about that.

I have begun to study Portuguese, and those who know it thoroughly are giving me every assistance. I like it pretty well, and hope to pick up a good deal before we reach Rio.

We have had splendid weather so far, though a bank of mist off the Land's End caused us to slow down and blow the steam-whistle-as a fog signal-every half minute. It makes a noise loud enough to waken the dead, and produces an uncomfortable feeling as of something weird and unearthly. We also sounded with the lead (having a piece of tallow at the bottom), and brought up sand and shells from a depth of fifty fathoms, though the length of line paid out was seventy fathoms-for twenty fathoms were slack rope. It is interesting to note the method of ascertaining the exact depth of the water At the end of the line, just above the lead, is a brass tube, with an indicating needle fixed to a piston which works inside. The tube is full of air, but as the lead descends, the weight of superincumbent water causes a certain amount of it to enter the tube from the bottom; this forces up the piston, and the needle marks on a graduated scale the depth in fathoms.

By midday we were in the Atlantic. There was a good deal of rolling and some pitching, and the number of passengers on deck diminished. At midday we had made 284 miles from Liverpool (in 23 hours), and were 362 miles off Pauillac.

We have on board a little boy, aged six years, who, with a pug dog, was shipped at Liverpool in charge of the stewardess. He, therefore, is quite alone, and runs about the deck all day. We three-i.e. dog, boy, and I—have fraternized. There is also a very pleasant young Irish priest going to Bordeaux, and thence to Marseilles. He can't speak a word of French, and thinks it rather a joke. We have likewise foregathered, and have been looking into Portuguese a bit. He agrees with me, that with a knowledge of Latin and French it should be easy.

You may like to know something about food. It is excellent. Coffee and biscuits at seven; breakfast, with cold and hot meats, porridge, eggs and bacon, beefsteak, salad, etc., at nine; lunch, of cold meat, cheese, salad, at one; dinner, of soup, fish, entrées, joints, puddings, etc., cheese, and desert, with coffee, at six; tea, coffee, and biscuits, at 8.30; lights out at eleven. I look forward with great anxiety and inward craving to each meal.

We passed Ouessant, or Ushant, at 7.30 last night, and, entering the Bay of Biscay, pitched considerably. The sunset was splendid: on the horizon, three barques against a dark neutral-tint bank of clouds; above these, apricot sky, with belts of dark purple fringed with bright orange, and floating masses of dark apricot merging into the pale blue cloudless heavens overhead; the sea tinged with red, and the vessel rising and sinking in the dark green waves. At eight this morning we passed the Île Dieu, about four miles off, and 110 miles from Pauillac. Entering the mouth of the Gironde, it is very hot; hitherto at sea it has been quite cold, and the ship rolled much, but now the yellow river is calm as glass. We are about thirty miles from Pauillac, and thence it is another forty miles to Bordeaux.

June 9, 1883.-I must now give some details of my visit to Bordeaux. Passing the Île de Ré about 12.40, we entered the line of buoys at the mouth of the Gironde at 2.30 p.m. The country on the north bank has a low coastline, parsemé with red-roofed white houses, and is prettily wooded after passing the sandhills which border the Bay of Biscay. On the south bank, the country is more undulating and very picturesque, with many vineyards, châteaux, and houses; it is from these former that the well-known wines Château Margaux, Lafitte, St. Julien, St. Estephe, Latour, etc., are produced, and from the châteaux they derive their names.

Arrived at Pauillac, four of us went on board the tender for Bordeaux. More of our men intended to go, but were downstairs getting a comb or a tooth-brush; and when we were clear of the ship, they were to be seen wistfully gazing after us. They were left behind. We had with us many who were getting off at Bordeaux, and half a dozen who, like us, went only for the night. Leaving Pauillac about six, we reached Bordeaux about nine p.m. The town of Pauillac, on the south bank, as seen from the river, appears insignificant; whereas it is really a very nice little place, consisting of an esplanade bordered by grass and reeds, coming down to the water, and mud-banks when the tide is out. A wooden landing stage runs out into the river. The houses are of irregular heights, one two-storied mansion being the Grand Hôtel. Beyond this row of houses on each side are avenues of trees and numerous haycocks.

Going by river towards Bordeaux, for some distance on each bank, the country is low but undulating, and prettily wooded, and very green, with innumerable avenues of poplars. The hay was being carried. Just opposite Pauillac there is an island about midstream, our side of the

river being about three-quarters of a mile wide. A little further up, the Gironde divides; or rather two rivers, the Dordogne from the north and the Garonne from the south, join, and are then called the Gironde.

Steaming up the Garonne to Bordeaux, we saw a great thunderstorm raging behind the high ground, on which a part of the eastern portion of Bordeaux stands; and we had then about half a dozen views, each of which would form a beautiful little picture. While the storm was raging to the east, to the west there was a splendid sunset; in the foreground the river, like oil, only disturbed by the wavelets caused by our tender, and reflecting the orange-crimson sky; then the green grassy slopes of the bank, with a background of poplars, whose black outlines stood sharply defined against the yellow horizon.

We put up at the Hôtel de France, and had rooms palatial in extent and height and fitting, also in charges. Bordeaux appears a very large and beautiful town. The east side is true country, and the ground rocky, and sometimes precipitous; while on the west side, which is flatter, there are quays the whole length, with hosts of craft of all kinds, from the large ocean-going steamers of the Messageries Maritimes, and other companies, to the small tugs, brigs, schooners, fishing smacks, etc. Bordeaux is a clean town, and I should much like to examine it thoroughly, as there are many interesting antiquities, such as the Grosse Cloche. I never saw a place so overrun by tramways; I had no idea they were so numerous, although I knew they are one of the well-known tramway companies of which, as you are aware, I have had some experience.

After dinner, we prowled about the town and looked in at one or two places of amusement, returning at twelve; then supper, then to bed. I was up at 5.30, and called the

others. We sallied forth, and took a tramcar going S.W. Passing the cathedral, which has a beautiful exterior, we went on as far as the Boulevard de Talence. Here we were in the midst of country roads, detached stone houses in beautiful gardens, surrounded by high stone walls, creeping vines hanging over some of them; in fact, the tout ensemble very picturesque. We walked along the Boulevards de Talence and du Tondu as far as the Rue d'Orano, and then back to town by the Rue d'Alsace-Lorraine. It was now 8.30, and breakfast time. We indulged in the local bif-ték à la bordelaise and other delicacies, and, after a final walk round, repaired to our tender.

Being detained three-quarters of an hour before starting, I had the amusement of witnessing a civil marriage. The happy pair came to the office on the quay, attended by two or three friends; the bride dressed in white with a veil, the bridegroom in full dress. They said a few words, the bride and bridgroom joined hands, gave a bouquet to the registrar—a little fat man in a tall hat—and the business concluded in about two minutes, when the joyous pair walked off.

June 10.-Last night at 7.30 we had a little excitement. I was on deck aft, close by the rudder, when suddenly there was a noise and a snap, and one chain of the steam-steering gear broke. We were consequently unable to steer the vessel, and, considering that we were just at the mouth of the river in rough water and running between buoys, it was rather serious. The captain and a dozen men immediately rushed aft and disconnected the steam gearing, while four men were set to work the wheel, sailors being stationed along the deck to pass the commands from the bridge. Everything, however, was put straight by 9.15. I found out in the course of the evening how the