who have spent their lives at sea almost without accident. An insurance company regards a seaman as a safe risk; as safe as a farmer. It isn't the danger that should keep you off the sea; it is seasickness, and four in a room 9×10 feet. Nor is it the expense that should keep you off the sea. For this voyage of practically twenty days I pay $150; or $7.50 a day. It would cost that at a New York hotel for room and board. And there are sea voyages much cheaper than this one: there is a White Star boat running between Sydney and London, by way of South Africa, which charges about $5 a day for the journey. It combines first, second and third class into one class, but is said to be very fair.
Wednesday, February 19.—We are the only Americans
on board the "Anchises," although a passenger
from London once met an American who lived in
Connecticut. The Londoner asked me today if I knew
his Connecticut friend. I was compelled to confess
I did not know him, although the London man said his
friend was one of the prominent men of that part of the
world. . . . It seems we are not a musical crowd;
although a concert has been announced for the night
before we reach Durban, there is no one to play the
piano. I suggested to a member of the Sports Committee
that some of us might learn, as we would have ample
time, but he did not believe my scheme practical. A
man on board has a graphophone, with sixty records,
and this is going a good deal. Last night he loaned the
machine to his nurse girl, and she gave a concert on the
